Beauty in the Close

          Direct sunlight flattens the sepia leaves
               of the autumnal crepe myrtle

 
          An opaque matte brown, the pointed ovals
               rustle in the breeze

 
          Oh, they are beautiful enough, forming a delicate
               pattern of leaf and frond

 
          But when the sun’s radiance shines through them
               transforming them into the panes of a chapel window

 
          Ah, then they become magical
               glowing rich russet and rose and mahogany
                    a glory of sacred glass
                         revealing the divine foundations

 
          Of everything
 

In memory of my mother:
Upwelling
Beacons Unreachable
Too Late
One Crossing
Grievous Loss

 

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