First/Last

(1) Each day the first, new shapes grow out of the disappearing darkness, the color of damp leaves and pine. Trees standing firm, giving back our movement, your voice, first light.

(2) This patience of trees, an unmoveable trust of the earth upon which they stand, nets weav- ing themselves into the light, the dark, growing in  a l l  directions. (3) Walking out into the growing darkness, events of the day dropping like leaves after the first freeze of fall. Windless days not returning, each night the last.

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