by Nate Hall




It is a genuine feeling To let go of the old prejudice of dying And those things that come with the shifting

moons I whisper in slow circles in the water I chew the ends of old baling twine I move in the weeds as

the bend of stalks Slowly, slowly I take form, growing larger Feeding I can see inside the world I

emerge, knowing the way There is no stillness like mine No time I crack and slide, moving with the ways

and ways I can see inside the world I am becoming I give up my life, it is not mine I break apart, dryness,

all eclipsing, eternal forever.


released June 3, 2015



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Nate Hall Weaverville, North Carolina

I was born, I like music. I made some. Here it is.

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