Mist veils the apricot branches and trunks-magpies and crows spread across the grass in silence-
White flags run uphill from the street to a neighbor's construction site-in this near distance, the flags are tiny flags of surrender-
Looking at the lines in his palms, he does not prognosticate but sees a history of struggle-along the sloping driveway, a cluster of daffodil shoots-
As he inhales, gratitude runs through his fingers-exhaling, he notices mailboxes on posts-
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