Alice O. Howell          

ACEDIA 

A cloudy day

 like sitting in the mouth

 of God

     part of a long grey song

     a green breath

     heavy, redolent

         of those bright tight fruits

     of disappointment

 tears welling

 against that great detachment of air-

     in a garden of wounds

     a contradiction of grasses

     a climbing-up among the sated roses

 I bend to the earth

     thorns all the way down.

                 a.o.howell

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