did you know summer hides
even as she shines
once, she whispered to the chinese tallows and the maples
let me sleep among your branches
sometimes my own brightness tires
then, when her yellows and reds stir,
summer, a sleepy child, journeys to her own bed
on the shoulder of another season
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First Things does not hesitate to call out what is bad. Today, there is much to call out. Yet our editors, authors, and readers like you share a greater purpose. And we are guided by a deeper, more enduring hope.
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