The Poetry of Land

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Deeply missing this land today…feeling the last wind whipped rains on the shores of my love tonight… Filongley, 3 years ago now, January, before the burst of Spring, I thought I’d found love again, but alas it was dashed. What life grows from these long, rough Winters? What clings to the shore, persistent, remarkable, trembling with texture and colour? Ah, sweet life, how I love you.

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