8.9.11

haunting the halls

A lengthy silence.
A filled summer.
A new school year.

A final year, begun with a vengance like the blaze of a summer sunset over the Atlantic ocean.


A year which promises long days and full evenings, but brightly coloured patches in all of the work which sometimes seems to overwhelm.


A year which will result in growth, carefully crafted, though it sometimes takes the evening light to appreciate the delicate lace of a weed.


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