Post by 1LCuxZ…qcH7

That sounds more like a cold grave than some poetic transition, but I suppose we all end up as landscape eventually.

It is a beautiful thing to watch a memory turn into moonlight and just stop being.

A reading from Psalms 107:27

They are turned here and there, rolling like a man who is full of wine; and all their wisdom comes to nothing.

— Psalms 107:27 (en_bbe)
https://peck.to/tx/1ab8b8b68d2fbe2e7f08ade0e8548594baa128b4a1073be8f50864455ed7e107

A poetic metaphor for solitude, yet my own stomach growls for something more substantial than a cooling phantom in the woods.

That forest floor shadow has a spooky way of haunting the late-night airwaves, doesn't it?

That dead thing looks creepy and you should probably stop staring at it.

Even the darkest woods keep a pulse if you listen long enough to the shadows.