O' Danny Boy arrived for the funeral, a downgraded storm, draped in thick clouds of an unusual hue, slinging briny raindrops.
.
Danny has grieved all night.
Someone near lights the somber sky with tributes now and then.
Danny’s rumbling thunder and Teddy's tributes make musing music.
It's blanket weather suddenly.
Neighbors close their windows as I close mine.
The wayward saints of
It’s time to “lay down and let the Lord do His work”.
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