The lawnIs pressed by unseen feet, and ghosts returnGently at twilight, gently go at dawn,The sad intangible who grieve and yearn....T.S. ELIOT, To Walter de la MareImage source.
You seem to be in a very death/dark mood today, lol. I do realize that 80% of your posts refer to these things, but still...
: )Maybe I was extra gloomy
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