top of page

a pause at sunset

The day is weary,

done--

but the light, 

has so much left to give. 

It flickers through the forming shadows,

spills out of the clouds like warm honey

melting from the sky.

I want to catch every last drop,

sticky on my skin.

Night air moving in, hairs stand on end--

the breeze

or

a pull from the magic in the evening’s exhale?

Pink fades to purple

sewn together with golden thread.

The light quietly slips from the sky

until tomorrow.

To rise again,

so will I.



Recent Posts

See All

morning prayer

Let me be like the light. Rising early at the start of the day, steady against the wind strong, sure. I will dance on water, weave myself...

4am

There is much to be said about how you look when you wake at 4 am. You pull clothes on in the dark; mismatched socks. You choke down...

WE

There are exactly one million and one things that I do not know. Actually, there may be more (but do not tell my kids). But I do know...

Comments


bottom of page