Dusk Comin' Down

I'm thinking as I sit here, pleasantly exhausted, after my journey to the cave. I remember another night when magic floated, as it does this evening, in the still air. I believed then that everything was possible. I believe that tonight.

I strolled homeward off the hill
just as dusk was comin' down
and the air was softly still.
Moths fluttered by on double sets of wings,
erratic helicopters unsure of destination.
The only sound … my footsteps on the graveled road
and the rustle of unseen insects in the grass.

Out there, beyond this shore,
the Straits--
calm as a pond in failing light.
Headlands marching one and then another,
slowly vanishing into the night.
There is one more shadow cast,
that of another Nation,
a neighbor and a friend.

I’m tempted to step into a kayak
and paddle toward that distant shore,
but the moths insist they lead me home
before darkness takes both view and sight.

Vi
©August 6, 2005