Thursday, May 21, 2015

Resting in the cool of dusk

Resting in the cool of dusk 

under the porch 
in the swing by the pool --
nothing quiet,
everything a riot of crick
and creak and whine.
Who knew such tiny things
could moan and click
so loud? The lowing cow,
the cawing crow,
that hootie hoo hoo 
in the woods 
over and over 
until dusk itself 
hovers then grows wings,
whose soft brush in flight
fills with hush 
the night.

3 comments:

  1. So soft & beautiful! Just perfect! xo

    ReplyDelete
  2. This is incredible :D such depth of emotions in these lines!

    until dusk itself
    hovers then grows wings,
    whose soft brush in flight
    fills with hush
    the night.

    Beautifully penned :D
    xoxo

    ReplyDelete
  3. I'll say it again - gorgeous!

    ReplyDelete