Through the bone-white days of this passage I step, vagabond traveller in its trackless hours. The land, here, marked by dark scatters of feathers, and there, a bare-limbed tree insists stark presence.
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Crow Passage
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Through the bone-white days of this passage I step, vagabond traveller in its trackless hours. The land, here, marked by dark scatters of feathers, and there, a bare-limbed tree insists stark presence.