As Day Drops the Mantle of Light

The night is young,
In this adolescent hour—
Stars are not yet glimmering
Above the valley opening to the west.
A copse of white trees appear dead, gathered,
Stand as ghosts, reminding of what once was….
Or shall it ever spring again with leaves
Upon bare branches?  I cannot tell at dusk….
Even as the cold wind of February
Blows upon tall standing reeds
Rooted on the shore, waves lapping lazily
Hour by leaden hour among the roots,
Rustling free and wild, touching
Though they sleep forever more.
What words rise within your mind
When such hours unwrap themselves?
Day drops the mantle of stronger light,
Stands alone in singularity
As Sun wearily departs and deeper shadows
Shroud the waking stars, one by one,
Eyes open from darker eastern sky….
Quietly, stars open the book of memory,
Speak without a word of cold immortality.
Slowly, it approaches…. This night of stars,
At first feebly blinking, then unconstrained they come,
Fair dreams that light the lamp, only brighter
As light overshadows complete blackness
Allowing eyes to dimly see within the dark.

One thought on “As Day Drops the Mantle of Light

  1. This makes me think of a tough, experienced ship’s captain, anchored off the coast, standing on the prow of his ship in the quietness of dusk.

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