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8:33 am

The Sound is a mirror today, at least while the sun break lasts.  But I can see now the clouds are beginning to cover the sun, slowly wholly and the water’s morning peace is turning dim.  I sang for her while she was dying.  Her door was open and I sang so she could hear until she cried and I went to her.  The words she said made her cry, love’s bitter mystery.  I was silent.  The Sound from here is a bowl of bitter waters.  Where now?