abbey-utahn

February 5, 2025

The clouds passed, in phrases and paragraphs, like incomprehensible messages of troubling import, overhead across the forested ridges, above the unsealed cliffs, beyond the uninhabited fields of lonely mesas, followed by their faithful shadows flowing with effortless adaptation over each crack, crevice, crease and crag on the wrinkled skin of the Utahn earth.

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Thought:

“Witches and poets co-embrace like fate,

Reputed base, bare, poor, unfortunate.

In these respects I may myself intrude

Among the poets’ thickest multitude.

Here lies that poet, buried in the night,

Whose purse, men know it, was exceeding light.”

Henry Parrot | “Fatales Poetae”

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