Evening white
kin to the moon
snowy ember
Delphic rune.
Evening white
kin to the moon
snowy ember
Delphic rune.
The day closes in layers —
palimpsest first
awaiting tomorrow’s script
inscribed by sandal and toe —
next water, rocking itself
in heavy-lidded blues,
slowing, nodding —
then birds, pulling cloud blanket
tucking in
a yawning world
dimming voices
on edge of dream —
atop, where wisps of day
linger like talcum
a so-distant moon
calls the stars.
Thanks yet again to photographer S.W. Berg.
Noble fellows
from day adjourned
comfy socks
in rest well earned.
Our wordless thanks
from heartfelt throe:
the bedtime sigh
and wiggle of toe.
With more thanks to the S.W. Berg Photo Archives.
On brittled page
shadows finger
winter’s braille
summoning day’s ghosts
in silent
bedtime tale.
The air was still
no finch’s trill
no breeze, no voice, no chirp
and so I know
as sun sank low
I heard a tiny burp.
the evening air
undulates
like rocking chair.
More thanks to the S.W. Berg Photo Archives.
pinning it with gold
autumn day retires
iridescently furloughed.
Thanks more to the S.W. Berg Photo Archives.
shadows sharp, oblique
jolly late bedtime, excellent fun
one more game of hide-and-seek.