Lumen

Showers of white dust.
Blossoms shredding soft as paper
from overhead, lighter than suffering.
Let them fall where they will. Let the bent
head accept this windfall. Let the light
shift and refract through the makeshift scope.

 

In response to an entry from the Morning Porch.

Series Navigation← The Jewel in the FruitLandscape, with Geese; and Later, Falling Snow →

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