Just the end of something

storm sunset very saturated

It is not bitterness
that runs through the deepening sky,
wind and water braided,
shot with the palette of infinity;
the black is not death
or ulterior motive
and behind, always
the night ocean swells


petals fall
torn by end of summer wind,
white, red, pink
piled beneath shadows,
and the moon that soars
in the bird’s egg blue of the sky
will always hatch
another winged spring.


Published by

Jane Dougherty

I used to do lots of things I didn't much enjoy. Now I am officially a writer. It's what I always wanted to be.

20 thoughts on “Just the end of something”

    1. I’m pleased you like it, Suzette. The weather here has swung round almost to winter from high summer and it’s a bit of a shock. From no birds, and it being too hot for them to sing or flutter about, there are now hundreds of them enjoying the cool and the rain. I’m pleased for them 🙂

  1. I really like this one–and that photo! I love the sense of cycles, night to day, winter to spring. And the movement, as well from all the nots in the first stanza to what will be in the second. I love those final lines.

    I just posted mine, which has some sense of that. I had a hard time getting a poem today–lots of phrases, but I think my mind was not settled on the task, and the Oracle knew it (as she always does).

    1. Thank you! I’ve just read yours. I sails along, just like the image.
      Funny the Oracle gave me four poems this morning one after the other. She must have known I wanted to write, but not necessarily what I ought to have been writing.

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