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On This Day

by Jane Gilgun



On this day when the air could not be more cold
when daylight could not be more short
when my grief could not be more deep
and my arms hang listless at my sides
I meditate on bulbs beneath the frozen earth
not dead but dormant
Soon warm light will beckon them
They will poke through the loosening soil
Their green shoots will open
in harmony with the silent eternal symphony

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