The Gray Gift
For the moment,
There is a blanket over everything
Like the one I woke up under
Anticipation of a holiday, perhaps
The blanket is light gray
It settles easily as it’s made up
Of daylight
I’m not sure what we might have done
To earn such protection and
And of
Muted beauty
It’s a quiet gift
And will last as long as diaphanous things
Might
Maybe longer, since nature
Knows the way around Main Street
Over it (upon it)
To serve it
And to keep it going
C L Couch
I don’t know where this is, but it’s somewhere.
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