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Poetry · Reflection
EVENING WHISPERS
“The pale stars were sliding into their places. The whispering of the leaves was almost hushed. All about them it was still and shadowy and sweet. It was that wonderful moment when, for lack of a visible horizon, the not yet darkened world seems infinitely greater—a moment when anything can happen, anything be believed in.”
5 May 2015
Bathers in the Evening
Hippolyte Petitjean – 1902
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