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Into the half-light
Half-night of an autumn morning
The sky billowing darkly,
As grey as the ocean
My shoes still wet
From yesterday's soaking
I promise myself
I would find a dry line.
I notice the way
The crows fall
upon the sacrifice
To careless haste
Descending
with careful reverence
Their black cackle
A prayer.
There's a flood
At the foot
Of the jangly hill
And I'm soaked to the skin
Again.

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