It's dawn
The rain has stopped
but speckled grey patterns this morning's blue.
It is the soft grey of ash- the pale grey that creeps across a face near death.
A memory.
Songs carried us.
A host of witnesses and love -it took you home.
But this morning's blue- it is a pale blue- new.
And birds sing, water welcomes and wind waves.
God witnesses and loves.
This too, is dawn.
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