Grass

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Grass on a path

The grass has been trampled.

 I'm walking down the same path and it's not a perfect day. I sense that heaviness you get before rain. I feel something is not right and indeed might begin to find a cause within me. I might pick up a memory of a personal slight or the strange way a friendship might have soured. These are feelings that can rise, suffocating one so that to be any particular place has no significance.

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