24 December 2017
The river broke the setting
sun into jewels,
ruby, jewels, gold.
Blue broke the river
purple, and torn orange
that turned fiery
yolk through which
rowed the rowers
who wore the colors,
like Josephs’ coats
until dusk, when raiment
turned Lenten.
And over the evening world
sang the nightingale
its song of love long gone.
Philip Kuepper
(8 December 2017)
