by Danny James
It rained some, light and fine. And I knew beyond the areal dance of dew and mists evanesce shone a working Sun, that didn’t at all mind and finds never its own energy or any, reason to worsen. Only recedes but with grace into the afterward, as must we if bests our fellows untempered. There is free latitude for all who take no segments but yields entirety, and dazzling arcs of colour perhaps the blending talents allow.