Some ritual once marked
this point in time,
to slow it down,
stop it even.
step through that absence
into the sacred.
All backwards.
We change and change
to let the sacred
step into us
(oh, the plural).
I mean me,
step into me,
into this august
day, into my
metamorphic body,
into the weather,
sultry, still, into trees
heavy with their leaves
about to drop,
so that together 
we all grow lighter.
Sherry Robbins, from Readings, August 24, 2020

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