Written by Chad Norman
For Lainee
Just where are those days
we choose to believe, insisting
they’re to be called our lives?
During one of them, an early sound,
generous rain glad to begin
heard first, but I’m fooled again
like almost always, by the wind,
a robin-played breeze in leaves
recently new and able to shade.
When heat reminds like a tribal beat
summer’s return happens, mysterious dance
or steps into solace given to help us
learn how we are not to know
each of their hours are better off
simply left such a graceful disappearance.
Text © Chad Norman
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