Sunday, May 13, 2012

Ode to Sunrise, in memory of Grady Tissington

When the sun set and light slept, no one
was surprised.

When the crickets cried in anxious sighs, we knew
it's as it must.

But when the colors streaked the sky in only 
hues of gray,

We bowed our heads and buried.
We found the dawn too late.

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