Sunday Thunder
Time
Walks more slowly
In this morning storm
Of crash and sound.
I know,
Because the rose
Is still crisp and orange,
Its leaves casting
Sharp shadows
On pink and russet spirals
In the altar cloth.
The book
Speaks comfortingly
with slow, sun distractions.
Karlsruhe, 1977. As downstairs as possible at the Rupple residence.
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