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Am back walking through the forest of illness
The red headed man that melts tin into copper makes bronze statues
For what purpose
I do not know
I am so far in that everything is darkness;
Trees, stones, sky;
Everything in my totality,
All
is darkness
So much time has passed I have forgotten the grain wheel,
the accompanying clean and simple brook,
the happy sound of the smoothed over pebbles
I cannot even remember
if they were ever real
Am back walking through the forest of illness
The red headed man that melts tin into copper makes bronze statues
For what purpose
I do not know
I am so far in that everything is darkness;
Trees, stones, sky;
Everything in my totality,
All
is darkness
So much time has passed I have forgotten the grain wheel,
the accompanying clean and simple brook,
the happy sound of the smoothed over pebbles
I cannot even remember
if they were ever real