fire of rose, red, and orange, plumes of clouds in long streaks, dots,
mounds, puffs, blankets. The moonrise last night had us all
spellbound, kin to moths and candles. This morning the sun decided to
remind us who gives the moon her shine.
When we wandered downstairs to watch the sunrise in the dining room,
my daughter started crying, then weeping, chanting, "I don't want the
sunrise to go away. I don't want it to end." I held her in silence
until the sunrise defied her.
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