<= 2017.03.09

2017.03.19 =>

Biking home, moonrise looked so large and kind over the hills that it was easy to give the mineral sphere the aspect of a friend (ché travagliosa / era mia vita: ed è, né cangia stile, / o mia diletta Luna); and I remembered an impulse from childhood, to take as friends the rocks that would survive drought and dearth.

<= 2017.03.09

2017.03.19 =>

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