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Dried Grass-Leaves

after a photo by Tom Clausen

Fallen on the snow, these dry grass

leaves are glyphs we must translate—

each become a random calligraphy,

a pale ghost of its former self.

Perhaps they signal what we all will

become—reminding us that even as we

shape-shift life to life, our signatures,

unique as snowflakes, will endure.

© 2021 Penny Harter