Thursday, May 21, 2015

The Turning of My Days (A Poem: 5/20/15)



















The way darkness rests on the branches of a favorite tree,
And the cat scurrying home to supper and a warm bed.
The fog gathering on rooftops where kids read stories
Beneath blankets pieced together by grandma's friends.
The single star bravely watching over all of this,
And trusting that others will soon come out to play,
If not tonight, then tomorrow night or the next.

The salty sea come ashore in wet breezes,
Resting now like a lover's hand, on my cheek.
The lemon tree in the yard, too close to the house,
Welcoming the night in the simplest, stillest way.
Doing what lemon trees do on foggy nights.
There is nothing to do now, but wait.
I can only stand here, on the porch,
Amazed by the damp, the holy damp,
And the dark turning of my days.