mementos of a summer heart

the lark subsides
and flies
out below
the grey ceiling
where she is kneeling
praying for grace
leaving in haste
though there is nowhere to go
she guards her heart
through overgrown paths

the summer rain
won’t stop
and somewhere the summer sun
is waiting
patiently i suppose

the folds of trees
pronounce their good deeds
to our silent ears
giving promise to autumn
and the pain of years

the sun will part the clouds somehow
but not today



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