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Thursday, March 25, 2010

Some recent work


I am watching the evening insinuate itself

Into the conversation about the day.

Dinner time had no mention of her, there

Were still doves admiring the liquid amber trees.

The weather wanted to see things differently,

Clearing, then a haze and a confusion of cloud

Types culminating in a less than enthusiastic

Fury as the sun relinquished its part in the conversation.

The path went from the beach up a small creek

But as it did there were lots of trees in the canyon

Holding the creek. Shadows were setting up

Night camps and small birds sought perches

To watch the show. We watched the foot

Bridges ease into the landscape like rainbows that

Had lost their color and were waiting for the

Flare that would say evening was indeed here.

I will stand here until it is impossible to tell

One object from another. There is little hope for

The moon tonight. The evening begins to cup

The sun in its hands and starts to hide

It from view. Why even talk about a landscape

Except that we remember the others who are

Unable to see this evening, who climb to sleep

Without these blessed thresholds to touch them.

Every leaf on every tree closes its lights down

And cries for us to remember it, stores the moment,

Blesses us with change, holds the dark off for a

Final moment and considers the entire world as one thing.

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