Softly we sang all the songs
we knew about rain
hymns to the early evening
set in a spacious house
not mine
.
The cat wanted in
the cat wanted
out the open door
let in a chill
that felt
like a reprieve
.
Such watery views
a wash of panes
the mountains
pouring in
to lakes or
lakes cresting up
in to peaks
.
Again what
is waiting just
beyond is kindness–
a hard edge
melts
in a crucible
.
What’s left
is love
again always
limitless
as the rain
.
And softness
is strength
it gives
by taking
and taking
and taking
i love it
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Your use of language is beautiful.
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Thank you, Tori!
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ma cousin must b love it. π
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thanks!
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