from my local poetry mailbox this month:
A brightening is near
the coughing up of light from earth
the pink so dear and given
with a fight and sigh but let to us
pastel from primary
a minus to a plus revealed
to you and me
slow-handedly but true
begin to smell our hill
delight in it
drink dew and shape it to
our will with purpose
sweat and eye turned
to a warming sky
Guy Holliday
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