A Toast

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It changes fast

that marbled sky

from sheets of paste

to curds of gray

and thin blue belts

with heads of steel

connected

by chain lightning.

.

Clouds turn glassy

shadows break

we hasten through

the cracking storm

but pause to lift

our empty cups

to catch the rain

and raise a toast

.

to the wild wind’s

un-leafing

of the fall.

.

.

© 1993, 2017 Betty Hayes Albright

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(re-post, revised)

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