once more emerging maybe into the almost beautiful at times, world-
we somehow forgot was our own may we suddenly herald
as much as angels did
the soft light that falls on the pine branches
the air so clear and bright.
sweater weather we used to call it.
I think it is weather
for setting the soul to rights.
for gathering awhile
the harvests of light
the harvests of light
having lived through the night
to fasten it all together again
to mend the rainbows
mary angela douglas 11 september 2020
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