Saturday, 27 November 2021

Random Thread: May 2016

Sunny sky through leaves

She lay on the back in the timothy
and gazed past the doddering
auburn heads of sumac.

A cloud — huge, calm,
and dignified —
covered the sun
but did not, could not, put it out.

The light surged back again.

Nothing could rouse her then
from that joy so violent
it was hard to distinguish from pain.

Jane Kenyon, “In the Grove: The Poet at Ten”

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