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My blog--I pull a card--if it doesn't speak to me...perhaps it is for you? |
| Six Mile Cypress Slough Come autumn bald cypress trees drop their leaves in the swamp decompose, split their flesh in the murky, opaque water. Everything is cypress knees and long shadows. Then, in December, an errant shaft of sunlight dances across the darkness and all sparkles into color of pearl, rose, clay, vermillion. Everything is rainbow. A tale of winter becomes a tale of hope. 12 lines Prompt: Hope Pholarchos Tarot--12--Hanged One--Allow control to flood away |