rare showing up at the computer tonight,
etching hazy up-and-down lines-
i've been looking for work,
the job of going there, the
task of staying put--
old woman comes out into
the center of the village,
wagon wheels creak to turning life,
the smoke of burning peat is heavy
adds another cold txtured layer
to the feeling, already damp,
the heavy naked wool rubs against
yr skin. the sun lowers
in the trees, all autumn,
all alone and in the dying light.
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