sank to grief

nature’s first green is gold; her hardest hue to hold.

i’ve been taking long walks lately.

it’s hard to think straight when everything is suddenly … wrong. i feel untethered. which is preposterous and also, exactly right. i am the oldest generation. no one older than me in my lineage exists. it is … bizarre. it throws everything on its head.

her early leaf’s a flower, but only so an hour.

so i walk. and i try to feel my feet push the earth back against me. “i am here,” with each step.

this must mean something.

nothing gold can stay

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