Parading

Gold with a heart of cinder.

muffling clouds muzzle most sounds

O, come and help me draw this blanket up,

A cadence of peace might balance its weight

sleet pellets jitterbug

’Cause I count my blessings, I don’t count my faults

It’s beauty

You, said Isaiah.

Oh, Cloud, sweet scarf of the Moon’s repose. Once more