Here's something I've been working on for about a few or so. This is the third draft. I feel better about this poem but am still working with it. Maybe more rhymes.

Stained Glass:

-To Gerard Manly Hopkins

There between the brick walls of comfort

where the sunlight dances around the

orange and red of a worn glass

Window.

There between the smug beat of summer

where cool nights followed again, the soft

silence of crickets and cicadas whirled by

Wind.

There between the crawl and the walk

where seeing disconnects the need to believe

more than sunbeams split by a cracked linoleum

Meadow.

There between the light and the night

where summer convenes with fall

green and yellow shine dim but tight—