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In The Evening, The Sky (Poem)
clouds amass in the west
dark with promise of rainfall
bruised by too much possibility
shot through with the sun’s brilliant wane
we wait under the threat
heaviness pressing upon our bodies
burdened by hope tied up in time’s passage
our hearts always reaching upwards
and if we grasp those white threads of light
where will we climb
what will we do
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Leaf, Fallen
blood-red stem a narrow thread
to which origin shall we return
darker veins web the blades
do we feel the flow and ebb within
scarlet hues shade throughout
what shadows similarly tint our heart
we ourselves will one day rest just so
will such beauty be our display
yes and yes and yes
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The Abandoned Lot (Poem)
broken bench in the field
stone birdbath in pieces
some few half-buried paving tiles
dreams collapse all the time
this cannot be done
that will not happen
whatever this or that might be
grieve not for the fall
no failure this passage
beauty abides in fallow ground
peace in just this moment
