Rain and high winds, the house thumped by fir branches, pelted with cones — a welcome cleansing. Let me not live with old thoughts on my lips, tired opinions, dull complaints, a negative outlook. Let me speak kindly or say nothing at all.
December 11, 2021
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Categories: New Poems & Pieces
Tags: Diaries, Firs, Gratitude, Journals, Kindness, Rain, Silence, Wind
William Michaelian 