Red sky fading to aged tones

Late Rothko

Headlamps of the fishing cars returning fleet

Stages in night’s descent complete

Clouds threatening storm stationary

A rheumatic sky


To stars revealed, moon: shines,

Red vanishes

Shepherd, delighted, sleeps

There is no finality in this night

Only the uncertainty of revelation

Darkness a vale of ignorance

An openness that

Scares us because it is not there

Like couples talking


Over time

Until a kind of silence

As couples

Suddenly see each other

When they retire

The barrier of enforced separation removed

We see into the others presence

Or, as couples grow old


The barriers slip away

there is a merger

Of their souls

They do not go quietly but rather

Like birds at dawn

Greeting the end of night

Waking the Shepherd

They remember how to chatter

And welcome each sun, of everyday, they get to share.

I see night for the first time