Blue Tapestries
John Swain

Rain in a white plate 
left after the gathering 
I cannot remember. 
I took a cinder block 
to raise the bed 
from the littered floor. 
Prayer stones glowed 
behind blue tapestries 
and night became a vapor 
arising from fountains.
And I knew captivity
and disorder
in the world you gave
from a hidden pain
of abandon and reclaiming
the former courtesies
and esteem in the shape
we uncovered
in the dark and day.

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