How you might slip into this light
Lured from bedtime curfews,
Signatory of winter,
With it’s wet ink faded into those days,
Remembered now in the tender branches
Still sliding through the wind.
.
Ever freshening days,
Alive,
With new things illumed,
In this one last moment
Before it all pulls us in
Returning us, gently,
Into the rhythm of our souls.
Shaken Rain 