Utter Stillness Rules These Woods

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By Matthew Brown Like Frost’s snowy evening, only quieter. The horses under my hood will never question stopping here now, nor in these anonymous times would I have any idea whose woods these are or where his house is, if I did not know these woods were set aside. Utter stillness rules these woods; the silence is solid; darkness wells up in me as joy.  There is not a twig in motion.  Ragged bare battered tops of trees take their rest in a glow of night.  The only … [Read more...]


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