Our war cores apples on a sun-dappled lake to trim an inestimable gap for a sapling's coming of age into a tree for a day and a half until I cut it down with an ax to put up our tent in the perfect place along the lake shore below the mossed branches of an old oak for my love and I to share our doubts on a hope for humanity
The next day we hike to an alpine lake to gather ourselves around wind-whipped shrubbery and red lichen on the rocks
The day after we will go back down to the valleys and rivers wrapped in roads and houses
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