Now is that moment when the world falls quiet to watch the recusing light.
Purple tints descend the branches and chimneys and electrical wires,
which rise in turn to interrupt the sky as the crispness of their presence fades,
With lingering points of brown or green as precious relics of the day.
The pond color drains from my jacket as I wait under a linden planted long ago
On a pavement being rearranged into its night setting,
Tired neighbors withdrawing vans into garages while the young head out for adventure.
Cats may pop up later to learn there is nothing here for them.
Any prey worth a peripheral glance has already withdrawn into the maples or the gathered warmth of the earth.
The branches seem to get higher and higher,
While in the houses, brightened fixtures speak of the evening.
Darkness brings the universe together again.
I scent the fulfillment of an oncoming hour.
Endeared, I am patient to watch its arrival.
Clouds now are directing the last rays into the open areas of the town.
While my surroundings are cast in a modest clothing appropriate for reflection,
A figure with a familiar gait appears around the corner.
A hint of breeze wakes up the air as humidity makes its exit.
Pending the transition to evening, I can discern everything before me,
Hair splayed over a hand-knit jacket,
Finally I leave the shelter of the tree,
And as I walk into the spectral glow I see your smile.
Andy Oram
February 21, 2022