. . . softly dream of moth mullein

. . . And almost unnoticed – like some kind of delicate-petaled, stubbornly rooted weed along the road side – all along there was growing in me an ineradicable love for the town we have been living in.  Living in and living among. . . .

.

[story: Future Cycle: Small Town Revival (of 24:4) “The  Town Itself”]

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