Forgiveness happens. Every now and then
the Canaan rainbow fills the valley up.
Hailstorms shatter August. Power fails.
A neighbor moves, or dies. A window falls.

Sun cuts through haze, and days are slowly shorter;
the road is dappled under the old tree;
the high wind stops its sanding: sudden silence;
a screen door slams; a guilty man goes free.

This Issue

February 24, 2000