Monday, November 24, 2008

to shine

Spent last night curled around my baby
in the room where she was born

In this house, old ghosts
no longer haunt the living
they've gone past purgatory
to the place above the clouds

Early morning we leave that beloved house with
its triangled windows and doors

When Horton Valley makes way for the mountains
and the mists wrap the last fir tree
above the pall of an Oregon autumn
the sun peeks out, says to us

'time to shine.'

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