The pigeons cut diamonds in the trees
And the wind cut through in whispers
Telling all who would listen
What they they strained for it to be
But windows were sealed
And fences whistled
With forlorn decree
That pagan Gods had been trodden and outworn
And the world is too much with us; late and soon
We’ll always be
Written for W3

Love that first line!
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Matt — “windows were sealed / and fences whistled” really lands for me. It feels like the world still speaking, and us not listening.
~David
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This poem touches me. Wonderful take. ‘…But windows were sealedAnd fences whistledWith forlorn decree…’
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hi, Matt❣️
Just wanna let you know that this week’s W3, hosted by our beloved Nolcha, is now live:
https://skepticskaddish.com/2025/12/24/w3-prompt-191-weave-written-weekly/
Much love,
David
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