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;)