Evening falls and falls


Evening falls and falls

until the glow of gloaming turns to gloom of night,

yet there is always light somewhere

to bridge the dark,

in eyes where stars settle, pearls,

in pools of limpid water silvered by the moon.

I dip my hand into the water.

Your smile ripples back.


Pale as pearl


Pale as pearl in dark depths

rocked in the ocean’s cradle

sifted through the sands of the sky—

starlight falling on a mown meadow.

Nothing is as silent

as a field full of night,

of light and shadow

and caught breath

waiting for the owl’s call.

All through the night


All through the night the voices spoke

and the pictures jittered past like images

trying to escape from ancient celluloid.

All through the night the sky was dark

with here and there a star

where wind had scraped the cloud away.

All night.

And when the dark began to fade

the voices silenced and the film run down

nothing had changed.

Nightingale’s furious tireless song

swept through the emptiness

bridging yesterday and all the todays

and tomorrows that are left

with a thread as tenuous

as unwritten verse.