Weight of Days
by Michelle Potter

The comforting gentle voice whispered close to me
'Why are you so sad, my child,
look up and see
the clouds of heaven have parted
the purest of stallions approaches.'

I was clothed in filthy rags as I bathed in the son's rays.
There was a flash of scarlet,
I looked down,
as fresh as whitest snow was now my gown;
Time everlasting was begun, gone the weight of days.




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