I see it daily, that rent along a cedar branch waiting to fall forty feet to the ground. Months have passed since a heavy snow tore the limb from its roots, a cardinal that frequents it a reminder that life goes on. There it hangs, framed in a pane above my laptop, waiting for me to write something, like tearing down the ghost of a memory of nothing good, long out of sight and begging to just let it die.
releasing the past
resolutely moving on
without looking back
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