Three days and it might have
been three weeks; something
has ended, nothing has started
to fill that void. Like a grove
cleared with just stumps left,
yet you know there will be
something there, something
lesser, different: Seeds, then
saplings growing into an
impenetrable thicket of young
birches as life floods in.
It will be different, yet
it will be life, too.
13.07.2024
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