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Poetry is when an emotion has found its thought and the thought has found words. ~ Robert Frost
The grief of losing a loved one: the need to walk, to remember, to heal when you cannot heal; to remember what you do not wish to remember. The unconscious call for invisible help, and the not knowing consciously, how, in any way, to ask for it; the way everything refuses to console until we are ready for that consolation. The way winter turns to spring. ~ DW
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