This Page
No boundaries mark this open page. Yet on the broad-horizoned land, Fields, mended hedges, broken walls Mark exactly where I may not go. A page – this page – is open to the sky. Times past, on snowy winter days Three small girls Slid, shrieking, down a frosted hill. Boundaries were a whispered dare. A looming thrill. Only a final curve – a tipping point Moments before disaster – Drove us deep into…
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