as the Sun pulls on the cord in the steeple
of the trees - once again we can hear
the leaves singing hymns of forgiveness,
begging god to let them resurrect themselves
upon the boughs of things once dead.
all the little children pile into the pews
strewn over the grass and they sit
to hear the prayers of the birds whistle,
raise their voices to solemn Heaven
they offer up their sacrifices in the form
of laughter, jumping, running, & play
after this steep and solemn mass
the candles that the Sun lit still go out too early
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