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Paul Robichaud
pjrobichaud.bsky.social
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‘The cancrous cities spread over the grass, they clatter in their lairs continually, they glitter about us blemishing the night. The woods are gone, O Pan, the woods, the woods. And thou art far, O Pan, and far away.’
— Lord Dunsany, ‘The Prayer of the Flowers’ (1915)
2024-06-30T11:15:24.066Z