Hearthleaving

constant escape

winter withered, warm
The time has come to inflect and fly on,
beyond,
and back under the fray.
Eternal departure can tone and keep tempered
what withers in unchanging weather.
Cling to the hearth
for too long, and the fibers relax into thermal coalescence;
too briefly
and fate becomes frigid.
So the desert dilates if unreckoned with,
each grain a latent desolation.
No shortage of work to do, steps to take,
nor any excess of pressure,
if infinity is the standard.

Aim ever higher, comrades, and love.

Spencer Saar Cavanaugh

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Well-known member
Oh right. I wasn't being sarcastic tho. I mean, it is a bit sad for us, but I wish him all the best.
 
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