Weeping may endure for a night, but joy cometh
in the morning.
Psalm 30
in the morning.
Psalm 30
Before dawn, under a thin moon disappearing
east, the planet Mercury, the messenger
and healer, came up vanishingly
into the blue beyond the garden where
three lilies at the bottom of the yard
arrayed white trumpets on iron stalks
under a slow, slow lightning from the sun.
I stood on a rotten step myself,
and smelled them from a hundred feet away.
--Brooks Haxston
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