The sky is cloudy and the morning cold enough to freeze
though the weather reports predict a warming day.
The news admits 2015 is the hottest year on record.
A flight of chickadees moves through the fall leaves
remaining on the trees across the street.
Out of the unknown, nothing appears demanding attention.
The mistakes and sins are old.
The wounds fresh and mounting.
The work is ours to do.
The work is love.
The work is ours