death & the maiden | a furling of fears

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death & the maiden a night of darkened heavens, a night of leaves, and in the two-fold dark I hear the owl [...] and the wolves duncan campbell scott — frost magic

November knows my face, but it has forgotten its' own. dear reader, light flowers on the hill — and frost roots here deeply, changing to snow the never-ending rain. I know not who of us is more feeble: this waning month or I. perhaps it is neither; perhaps feeblest of all is the dying year. I hold my breath and, sinking, I try hope.

INDEX one.......an ode to november's weather two.......first quarter : thursday 1–8 three.....second quarter : friday 9–15 four......third quarter : friday 16–22 five.......last quarter : friday 23-30 six..........letter to agrippina minor seven.....odds & ends & ill-fit things


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