NIGHT ENTERS

 The oil of dark turned quiet.

The gears of dusk pulled

kneeling clouds to lay their

praying hands over valleys

where evening oddly fits

like a puzzle.

 

The sun yields to a purple sky.

Flags of death witness

horizons loss of youth.

 

A cool brush of wind closes in around.

Fields accept curtains of mist;

the baptizing is wide and wet.

 

A covering of rest sooths the land

into darkness.

The fields breathe goodnight.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s