Come home

A barking frog;
the way the willow bends to change
and night - night’s shadows leaking into day.
Between the rooftops and the graves
the evening colours slowly break
into some whispered prayer: come home.

Come home -
come home the ghost,
come home the clay;
come home the light;
come home the day.
Come home.

Shadows of dreams
cling to the corners of eyes:
God stuff spent;
night’s leakage -
sunlight’s prey.
Come home.

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