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There was no rain. There was no wind.
A sunny day’s bright, piercing sky,
And colors that refuse to blend
In trees that wear each hue and dye.
The sky scalded with skeins of crimson:
Sweet sugar maples sing of red,
The green of leaves long left behind.
And excreted over all: the oil of blood.
On an old oak:
The yellow sun will kiss the yellow leaves
Bequeathing shining smiles forever more.
As eyes assaulted by the bright are worn
Like glass within the sea, once shattered, formed
By waves and tried to pebbles’ rounded core.
The yellow sun will kiss the yellow leaves.
In Autumn, yet in
Cold autumn sky with naught to keep the heat at home
An azure blue more true than any eye that roams.
A puff of cloud will merely make the blue more gay
Relieving eyes of sapphire skies steal breath away.
An sunset come, as sunset must,
Our eyes are drawn at God’s behest
Horizon west where our eyes rest
Sapphire fades to violet.