A cloud has settled in
and delegated to the trees
its responsibility to rain.
In turn, the trees peel off
their papery layers
and have agreed to risk
some tenderness: beauty for
ashes, joy for mourning, the idea
one could still be something else.
[LAG-signature date=”02 11 2013″ url=”http://morningporch.com/2013/02/159123137/”]