small stone (126)

The scent of the canyon sage I crushed an hour ago in my hand has already gone. I feel robbed twice: once by anticipation, again by loss.

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2 comments on “small stone (126)

  1. […] response to small stone (126). Share […]

  2. […] that lie between the opposing slopes turned to still rivers of crystal-studded alabaster. The aromatic sage I crushed in my hands at the end of summer now stands stiff and thin, the long-blown blooms poling up above the bush and all of it wearing […]

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