Homeward from Harrisburg. Our bus rolls west across the long hills, Wooded valleys deepen from dark green to black The day was full of angry speeches. We chanted ourselves hoarse: E. R. A. Yes! Enfolding evening grants us peace, or at least a pause in our struggles. The dark clouds, now marshaled from the sky’s top to the horizon, just illuminate the sunset. Warm gold, then cheerful red. beneath our skin, not yet spilt. .Then the clouds turn dark as wine. Elijah’s cup for tomorrow. And slate gray bars across our field of vision are pierced. As the evening star also rides west, and bears the light of the morning sun.