Walk the rails under a high blue sky. Find the sag in the leaning fence, and step--carefully--over rusted wire. Follow a peninsula of blond grasses through a lake of loam, and come, at last, to the timber's edge where gray branches trace the sky and rose hips curl near purple canes.
Thursday, April 22, 2010
Wednesday Prayer Meeting
Voices patter like petals on pavement, like rain spots slid from spring-gold leaves, like fragments swept up in Your infinite whisper.
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