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When Sunshine Returns At Last; To The Heavens Steer by Lawrence Moore



When Sunshine Returns at Last


there will be

lollies and ice cream,

the gleam

of approaching pond.


Should the bevy of swans

float by this year,

my camera

shall rest at ease;

hour the internet

fails to see

then lived.


Still if,

as though by magic,

our heron lands

upon that same

pale priesthood cottage

or twin distant

seaward strands,

we must commit them

to memories,

hoping next time

the sunshine gets torn away,

something fiercer than nights

we'll see.



To the Heavens Steer


Golden glitter unicorn snowglobe

gifted at Christmas, shaken, spun.

Hunches and hints of past adventures,

neither can know what's left to come.


Sloping, swirling, shimmering, shaping,

sinking, twirling, glimmering, strong.

Clueless without your 'random' signals;

lost we may seem, though not for long.


Questions extended, pesky subjects,

solicitudes, independence, fear.

Output imprinted upon my psyche,

something to salvage this awkward year.

Strange divination or self-cajoling,

either will do; to the heavens steer.

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