In the dusk of the year

 

In the dusk of the year

we stand wreathed in flying leaves

and restless skies watching

the dark half of the year turn closer

remembering the cold that bites

beneath snow-filled cloud

and our dreams full of fire.

 

In the twilight of all things that matter

we lie down on scorched grass

and watch the storm clouds gather.

No rainbows will follow this deluge

no ark no saving graces.

No dawn will follow this night

of no moon and no stars.

 

Night falls

and falls

 

and

 

 

falls

 

 

~fin~

 

 

Summer evening

 

Twilight, and the owls call,

from the hedge a hare darts,

takes to the lane, white scut jaunty.

Beneath the trees,

bat-fluttering night has fallen,

Venus, Jupiter and Mars

aligned in the blue, the outliers,

while behind, in the turquoise glow,

the stars wait,

and I wait,

for the curtain to rise, the curtain to fall,

spangled and old as time.

Will the night still cast its glitter on these fields

when the hare has gone and the owls are silent,

and the concrete sea has tamed this rebellious corner,

when nothing stirs in the grass so bare,

flowerless and insect-free,

and neatly trimmed as polished nails?

Were I a star,

I would turn my face away

and weep.

Dusk

For the dverse open night. A poem that is a clin-d’œil to WB Yeats, as if you wouldn’t have noticed.

Rippl_Dusk_Landscape

The silent-most time of day, is this,

the hush before unholy street lights

burst into their orange flame

and draw the crowds outdoors like noisy moths.

Had I the heavens’ embroidered cloths,

I’d wrap this moment in the hues of half-light

and sing it gentle songs of twilight

and keep it safe through darkest midnight,

unwrap it in the melting dawnlight,

when the soft hush falls again

into the dew-damp world.

Wolf light

Poem adapted (hmmm) from French to English.
Painting by Eugene Jansson.
Eugene_Jansson_-_In_the_Twilight

Entre chien et loup
tout se ressemble
tout chat est gris
lumière
poussière
soleil déclinant
la lune obscure
ton visage entre les arbres
s’éloignant.

Between dog and wolf
the same shadows fall
all cats are grey
day is dust sifting
light fading
sun declining
moon obscured
your face between the trees
departing.