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Troy.

"More and more of the ice cream was melting. It dripped down on Toad’s jacket. It splattered on his pants and on his feet.

'Where is the path?' cried Toad. 'I cannot see!' " —@frogandtoadbot.bsky.social

Plasma from the back of the sun.

   sudden boiling up
of spilled trash on commute trail
   just as sudden gone

in this grim winter sunshine:
not to be told what it means

The Hiding Place.