Rosy orbs of sunlight and dew
hang heavy in the last weak summer sun
A bite of heaven
or a jar of jewels
The earth harvest-heavy
for the ten-thousandth time
Hands of the thousandth generation scratched and old
and aching for rest in the soil they tend
The sun sends one last beckoning light
and returns to the other side of the earth
turns another world into day
and ours into night.
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