...And The End of Things
Linger like the last leaf
Jumping to its dried, brittle fate
As wind caresses every branch
Like a passing stranger
Or a long forgotten friend.
A reminder. That we never stopped moving
This is the mourning period. I think that we should let the blog die, but I will write it poetry until I am ready to let go and satisfied that it has a proper send off as I've grown sentimental in the last half hour. It was a good run ladies. We made it through a year. :) It was a pleasure meeting both of your acquaintances.
Let's end this post with some Tonjes.
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