gift

Those who treat black cloud as nemesis

Must have somehow farewelled memory

Of dust to dust

And ash to ash

And must have also been allowed to shirk

Their everyday thanks for where they now stand.

With this disdain comes ignorance of the fact:

It is this very holy release…

(That sings to me

Drumming on tin

And sustains my breath

Like a nana’s lullaby)

…that selflessly offers them the luxury

Of laughing in sunshine again.

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2 thoughts on “gift

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