Date: 2012-01-01 07:32 am (UTC)
pf_mod: an old style ink pen, poised above paper (time to write)
From: [personal profile] pf_mod
But in the white fist of his brain
he holds the black seeds of his happy childhood.
When he reaches the beloved, bone-dry land--
he will sow.
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Your stop for the annual poetry fic challenge!

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