Posted in New Work, Poetry, Uncategorized

Evening Out

Evening, Ma’am, Sir.
Evening walks
to nowhere in particular
and everywhere I’m going.

Evening coffee,
evening meal…
Evening matinees awaken the sky,
as sun sets
horizon alight with gold and orange;
rose and wine and blue.

Evening – shadows.
Moon is rising
the wanes of Gibbous
in half…

Evening, crickets –
how melodic your trill.

Evening
is the middle between
[the] time to rest
and trying to be

still.