afternoon light changing in waves
tidal pool of hours
filling and unfilling
unfilling as emptying
but time does not fill or empty
there is always a reckoning
of dusk
then twilight
then owl call
then darkest night
when the black moon pulls hours
in her tides
and unfills the day
Waking to the sound,
I know we are being robbed again.
Grabbing the flashlight, I race down the stairs
and onto the porch.
Shining the light into the night,
3 pairs of backlit red eyes
stare at me from the birdfeeder.
Damn raccoons!
2am masked marauders
stuffing their smiling mouths with all my sunflower seed.
They chitter and hiss as I clap my hands,
shooing them back into the waiting woods.
I switch off the light-
the dark enfolds me.
Its warm.
A still night with the cool air rising from the lake.
I can smell the water
and hear the stars sighing.
Closing the door,
I walk up the stairs
to the waiting warmth of a snoring husband
and the small dog nestled between us.
singing in a tongue
I don’t understand
night rain
***
lullaby of rain and thunder
sweet song of creek and river
a very good night
for floating dreams
across the lightning filled sky
night settles in
shaking its feathers
and preening the stars
glimmering twilight lingers
until silvered moonlight confirms
the nights reservation
tempers of the day
flared into sunset colors
til twilight assuaged
the heated brow
with cooling blues and greens
sleep walks thru the quiet house
shuffling the days moments
into nights dreams
dealing the cards of knaves
and queens, hearts and diamonds,
cups and swords
magicians appear from the shadows
as the hangman watches from the doorway
waiting for his entrance with death
as the lovers play gin rummy
for silver dollars
shining bright as the full moon
warm humid air –
moving the white curtains –
evening dance
***
sound of scurrying in the grasses-
small brown rabbits leap in the field –
the yip of a fox
***
night sounds –
low hum of the refrigerator,
trilling song of frogs,
the wings of owls
dark evening path-
an unseen companion-
owl calls
***
quiet winters night-
called to order-
a parliament of owls
after the longest day of the longest week – after the longest drive in the pouring rain – a porchlight in the fog – home again
thecourseofourseasons 