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or that very same lovely light with goddamn hail
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and even the saddest little tree can shine in this light and its reflection
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while the gloriously big ones can blush beautifully at the thought of their impending nudity
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The whole experience of october, not just that light fantastic or the crazy precipitation, but the air and the smell and the moodiness of it all, i think warrants at least a temple
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where melancholy angels ponder whether hail is actually damned -and light sent- by god
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or that it is just the stuff all these freaky spiders that crowd this month pull out of their arses
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