Gentle-born Dusk

As I drove home this evening I watched dusk roll over the day, like a gray-blue tide obliterating the familiar in its surge.

Gentle-born dusk rolling soft like a sea

Where workman and wanderer roam

Filling our thought as farewell fills the lea

With whispers of home sweet home

Aerial anthem, arabesque descent

Twirling, unfurling to earth

See how the hour with night-sky is bent

Over blue fallow and firth

Time is a rebel; ah nay, it is I

Fighting what cannot be fought

Gentle-born dusk rolls from gates in the sky

Over our scribble and jot

Methinks the trill of a flute drifts somewhere

Wait; or is it just the wind?

Searching for roses to place in the hair

Of someone that he cannot find

© Janet Martin