A Sky Like Painted Glass

Goodbye:

(The sun was bending with a sky

like painted glass;

the smell of water quivered in the grass,

of flowers and tadpoles and fire and mud,

each heart-beat lost in the bone-break thud

of bare feet running from the bite

of autumn frost on a summer night.)

Two unrepeated syllables,

each half-forgotten as it falls.

(c) Sheila Roberts

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