Even the sun call fall in line
Behind her paler sister,
Crown her princess for the afternoon--
The penumbra a diadem for the moon
While on the ground the headstones snatch
Their shadows back into the grave--
The last trill of a lone sparrow echoes
Off the bare spring earth, now strangely closed,
As are all of those who witness
Now the larger darkness spilling
From the sun's humility--
The moon remains the princess
Of the darkness, willingly.
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