I’m looking back as much as forward. Because loss. With snapshots and moments that tease. Discard. Cling. Each of us chooses. The longer the lens, the more I wonder about a bigger picture. A wider one. What to leave in, what to leave out – as lyrics go. Pondering and lamenting are part of the human condition until, well – until they aren’t.
Four seasons. Many chances. One life. Take as many turns as you must, but strive to leave a lasting impression.
All This By Hand
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