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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.
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