4.21.12.

“ [There is a door. It opens. Then it is closed.] But a slip of light
stays, like a scrap of unreadable paper left on the floor,
or the one red leaf the snow releases in March. ”

Jane Hirshfield, from “Three Times My Life Has Opened”, last poem in The Lives of the Heart (via the-final-sentence)

(via the-final-sentence)

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