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                           “low moods
                come like birds on the roof”
                           they step
                           and scrape about
                           pecking at
                           the moss
                and throwing it clump on the conservatory
                           roof will
                           they damag:-
                suddenly fly off again





birds wormhole: up here
conservatory wormhole: I do
depression wormhole: poessay X: soul love – poewieview #2
letting go wormhole: no point
roof wormhole: … the discipline of shamatha / the waft of vipashyana
sound wormhole: ‘the hour before dinner – / the empire of dusk’ – poewieview #6