A summer blessing

A cotton hill looking for a home.
Drifting to the blessing,
paper thin.

In a breath,
the warmth, feathered out,
as the dandelion seeds
on a cow’s tongue.

And as quick as the sun’s mask came,
the un-clouding of the marble blue,
the rays they come again,
and come the only reconciliation we feel.
Our un-paused atonement,
through no action
but our being.

Shoulders fall that inch,
and in that moment
we all have perfect skin.

Plum black to the copper red,
on closed idle stare,
the light of summer coming.

We are absolved and forgiven
from our injurious past.
For no one asks the sun,
“where have you been?”,
rinsing its hands
on the newness of a day.

Christopher Hopkins, was born and raised in Neath, South Wales, surrounded by machines and mountains, until he moved to Oxford in his early twenties. He currently resides in Canterbury and works for the NHS. Christopher has had poems published in Rust & Moth, The Journal, Harbinger Asylum, Scarlet Leaf Review, Anti-Heroin Chic, Tuck Magazine, Dissident Voice magazine, Versewrights, Poetry Superhighway and Duane’s PoeTree and the online literary journal 1947. Two of his early e-book pamphlets “Imagination Is My Gun” and “Exit From A Moving Car” are available on Amazon.