and just like that a glistering grain . . . . fell . . . . and is now landing more will come
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An untamed and flaming play
It began with the sound of the soothing song of the Black bird and its hectic, laborious upbringing of two or more broods of bickering hatchlings per summer – That was my image of the teacher I am becoming (willingly or not), and a suitable poetic background to the challenge…