I see you in every
fleck of light.
I feel you
in the morning sun.
I hear you in
the whispering wind.
I know you all,
as beloved.
I ache in memory of loss
and wait for others to see your individuality.
I slip beneath bedclothes,
eyes tight, praying for change.
I dream of you
and hope to see you free.
Photo © J.H. Dickinson
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