keshner (Remove filter)
an orchard’s lament
Morning mist drapes each blossom
like a bride reluctant to wake.
Petals fall in silent confession—
memory’s hush in every drift.
Roots hold secrets of laughter and tears,
a debt of seasons owed to shadows.
Soon, steel will bite bark and bloom
and these ghosts will scatter on the wind.
.
Monday 14th July 2025 9:40 pm
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