(x = space)

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Ancient Chores

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I imagine

Standing vigil

Is no fun

To be a soldier

On the wall

Even with peers

And a fire

In a brazier

Now and then

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Maybe we

Call out the hours,

Which could keep

Us alert

In counting time

And I guess

The fires should be

Shielded away

From away

So that we might

Look out upon the field

To suss what

Might be stirring

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But then

Comes the dawn

We are there

For the arrival,

Change in shift

Maybe change in orders

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And is this

Holy, set apart

For godly purposes?

Does God arrive

In the dawn,

Apollo in a chariot

As our neighbor

Greeks might say?

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Well, I should

Head back to

The space in which

I live

When I’m at home

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This duty’s

Not so bad

Even as I wonder

Where is God

If in the sun

Or the chill wind

That blows

As if

Another wind

Had never

Crossed the yard

Before

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C L Couch

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Photo by Alex Plesovskich on Unsplash

Marrakesh, Morocco

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