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.
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