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Jan 2020
The sky a low ceiling.
Below a tapestry of blues, greens and greys –
Woven in shrub, stream, stone and lichen.
Mount Brandon.

Mountain spirits, dressed in wool.
Suspicious beady eyes.
Hoven feet that read silently the land.
Mount Brandon.

Fog boils over the mountain –
A breath that makes night of day
And ghosts and spectres of those who dare.
Mount Brandon.
Written by
Dylan Barrett
303
   Juneau
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