In
the end although we don’t like
to believe it it is very simple
the rain at night on the skylight
the bulbs' slow swelling in sodden soil
in these darkest of nights
the animals taking what they need and now deep
in their blue sleep innocent as stars as frost
as the dreamtime before the world was made
and we here with our hearts so full
of distances and pain and longing
trying to do the one thing that’s right
for us the one thing that will allow us
to speak our own language
to be all that we might be to love
© Roselle Angwin
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