My word of the year is calm.
Calm like flowing streams and gentle skies. Calm like the field I saw from a bus window that one time in the English countryside. The one that stretched on and on with no end in sight. Even the horses were standing still.
Calm like a stretch of snow that hasn’t been stepped on yet. Like the sound of one of Mozart’s sonatas being played by unknown fingers, drifting from an open window at dusk.
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