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Visit my new site, Coyote Crossing.

oh, to sit on that ledge
to run my fingers through the moss
the thickness of it, the paleozoic fullness
scale-like leaves pressed tightly to their stems
a bead of dew on each, wetting my hand
oh, to curl my fingers into the depth of it, smiling
she stands at the far bridge end.

Posted by: Chris Clarke


Note: A database glitch in 2008 ate a bunch of archived comments. Don't be offended if yours isn't here, or confused if the conversation seems disjointed. Thanks!



I feel like I’ve seen one of these photos, or maybe I’ve just been there.  Makes me miss Seattle a whole bunch.

By: By nina on 2008 02 22



Lovely, sensual, and sad.

By: By Theriomorph on 2008 02 22

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