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You will never be alone, you hear so deep

a sound when autumn comes. Yellow

pulls across the hills and thrums,

or the silence after lightning before it says

its names — and then the clouds’ wide-mouthed

apologies. You were aimed from birth:

you will never be alone. Rain

will come, a gutter filled, and Amazon,

long aisles — you never heard so deep a sound,

moss on rock, and years. You turn your head —

that’s what the silence meant: your’e not alone.

The whole wide world pours down.

I take this as a poem about doubt, and the reassurance that, even in your doubt, you are not alone. In this big world, with lots of unknowns, we see the awesome natural occurrences and we get the sense that there is more to the world than just ourselves. These occurrences are dependable and unchanging. The world literally opens up to let us know that we will never be alone.

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