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#suet
Watching quietly from nearby stump, bushtits, flit, at the edge of the wood, scattering if a leaf moves, like precious feathered fragments of light ~ “one” of many tiny feathered dancers, all look the same, to those who never look, to see beyond a name all skittish of a giant’s human kindnesses, not all that different than a large “one” feeling insignificant and small… hearing a bashful chatter, whispering wonderments, flocked together “one” for all — all for a greater good sadly, the giant “one” at the edge of the wood, is the only lonely heart — even the smallest precious hearts know, all need someone to love and behold; bestowing purpose, as every humble breath unfolds, a need to just be, a need to belong, something to be, more than “one” — —the edge of the wood
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3d ago
May 31, 2026 at 11:48 AM UTC
At the edge of the wood
Here's an ode to make us laugh, Boomers resilient to the last, Survived high school in the sixties, Where we learnt cookery, Girls did not have ***** Couldn't do woodwork, over it! Instead, made a pudding of suet, Fat, fat, fat, eating to rue it!
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Jun 2, 2020
Jun 2, 2020 at 11:20 PM UTC
WE SURVIVED....