Sunset . . .

I sit here in this chair

and stare at sky and trees,

glory in deep greens,

blues fading to white while night

gathers his cloak to shroud days story.

 

Symphony of sound resounds

from roof to twig.

 

There’s nothing but the best here,

deepest rest from fear.

Pride pounded out,

plied loose by love’s flood

shed in tears of gratitude.

 

Life’s loudest hullabaloo,

lambasting

liquid

lullabye:

lilting lift

of mockingbird fit

sent soaring to the sky.

 

Never wonder why.

 

Simply sigh,

crying,

flying along the sound,

the pounding

of night’s ponderous dance.

 

jrk © 5/30/03, 2009