I sit at the crossroads of where I once was and am once again, the ruins of an old
farm, from a time when I last came here, not far from where she sprouted wings,
a caterpillar reborn as moth, her pretty wings taking her places my feet won't
let me go, the did stalks of last fall’s corn, strewn along each side, full of
memories, full of decay, the last gasp before winter turns to spring again,
before summer, the decoration then with green, the old dairy farms turned into
gas stations and Cannabis stores, celebrating the demise of our way of life, I
search for the fruit and vegetable stands that have long gone the way of the
dodo, no way to go back to redo what was undone, only carry on
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