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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