Yesterday:
A bald eagle rows the sky, it's wings so strong-looking and pulling evenly.
A twittery flutter of starlings as they rise, a whirring wing-beat of iridescence.
The bluest depth of the bowl that covers us all.
Today:
The covering bowl re-glazed, now colored in striated tints and shades of gray.
The smells of manure mixed with water and earth in the meadow, of fermented corn silage, of ripe ossage orange leaves and fruit.
The red berries of dogwood, viburnem, rose hips.
The black wooly-bear curling and straightening its way down the road, wearing the color that, according to folklore, foretells a hard winter to come
Tomorrow:
The hope of continuance, the certainty of change.
"Strength for today and bright hope for tomorrow,
Blessings all mine, and ten thousand beside."
The blessing of all the ten thousand things.
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