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More years behind than ahead

Tomorrow with no lasting definitions or weight

Just a wall of trees guiding the way home

kissed by too many suns.

A touch of grace

to have and to hold

this day beginning to end….

Hunting Season

Photo by Miriam Fischer on Pexels.com

It’s that time of life when gentle and innocence fall

the eyes of the deer go dark

while the heart of sporting egos reign.

We all feel broken a bit

and generations suffer generations.

As foot prints in the snow crush the buds beneath

we all stay hungry for peace.