Tired leaves and
tarnished grass,
Geese mourning
the sun,
The tide of summer
slipping into night.
When will I see your
perfect light again?
How can I forget your
inescapable bones?
Michael James Fitzgerald
Summer Evening
"Let us therefore cast off the works of darkness, and . . . put on the armour of light" (Romans 13:12).
Thanks for sharing your gift with words.
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