Tuesday, January 21, 2014

Of Dusk and De-railed Trains...





Dusk drains the day in burnished pink
Before a dark and deeper hue
Folds skylines ‘neath its hem; the brink
Of earth a figment wrapped in blue
And where noon’s merry moments fell
Like sun-sparkles into life’s stream
Twilight’s calm torrent floods the dell
A tranquil tide tunes star-requiem

Jostling and lagging squanderers
Of dark begin to come alive
Where street and porch-light whisperers
Hail passer-byes to step inside
But I prefer the moon-swept hill
Deprived artists and poets sleep
Still, I prefer to stay until
Star-song recedes into pale deep

Soon Time will tug night’s navy drape
From ocean-scape, sea-shore and street
This dusk to dawn a brief escape
Before rush-hour’s bitter-sweet
Maybe, someday I’ll say a prayer
As slumber stills the mind, and then
This poet will be sleeping where
The night will pass without a pen

© Janet Martin

…as the sun was setting I snatched the first line but couldn’t return to it again until way past sleep-time; my original train of thought long-thence derailed, I close my eyes and cut loose…it’s fun;)


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