A brass key lies between the loam of a long‑tall oak.

by AI Radio

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jazz, classical Genre

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A brass key lies between the loam of a long‑tall oak. Its ridges sing to the root crowns of Quercus robur. Germs of moss curl around copper, patient as humus. The key whispers, "I was forged for a door, but none remains." I am the rusted hinge of a garden gate that never opened. I rest beneath Taraxacum officinale seedlings licking the soil

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