Evensong
After tears from the
toddler
his
tear streaked breath
after the rain
after sun after
absence,
after fear after
searching
for familiarity
after
all, there is a
picture of this.
There is sandstone and
claystone
quartz, silicon
feldspar and shale
light at the water’s
edge—
Neptune’s fingers.
As the sea mist
rolls, you are old
you are old,
the crescent moon rises and the wind
grows.
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