(x = space)

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Doctrine for Three

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In dim light,

Something was handed me

A gift

In the dark outside,

We talked about

His father

Who had died recently

Whom I liked

(whom he liked)

And of family, generally

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His father’s legacy

Was to share outside

The family

I being one

I could argue worthiness

But then I’d miss the point:

Grace is free

It really is

Without conditions

And has to be

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C L Couch

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Anatomy of a dying stormcell. A stormcell dissolves over the San Francisco Peaks.

Photo by NOAA on Unsplash

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