Category: Poetry

The dying of the light

A quatern for dverse.

This is the dying of the light

This is the dying of the light,
the final glow before the night
enfolds us in its blind embrace,
my fingers memorise your face,

its planes and angles, in touch-sight.
This is the dying of the light,
When every dog and cat is grey
as shadows on a sunless day,

the time when dog and wolf are merged,
’twixt moon and sun, in pools submerged.
This is the dying of the light,
when daybirds huddle close in fright.

A rose is dreaming on a stem,
in sun’s last rays a thorny gem,
as petals, crucibled, ignite—
this too is dying of the light.

Light, rock and time

In response to Kerfe’s Oracle 2 random words.

Light, rock and time

Grass grows deepest in the shade,
where threads of gossamer bind the beams of sun,
light and tight so they never break.

Yet in dark water, unseen currents unravel,
splintering light in star-spangles.

We lift our faces to the ripple-sky above
and peer through waves that pound the rocks
to grains of sand.

How can nothingness be so strong,
the bones of the earth so fragile?

Purple mussels wheeze a plea, lament
for the death of black rock
washed from sea to sea, ghosts of pale sand.