The Way Love Anchors

I wonder, did he stick to the margins of the day? Hold palms aloft for shade? Trudge through the seasons? Chafe at this appointed endeavor?

Think, “surely this will vouchsafe my peaceful demise?”

I do not know anything except

The hours he had

Squinting into morning sky, evening sky

Lovely clouds, all sea foam and flocks

Anchored by love

Isaiah 40

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