There is something about dusk
A gentle luminosity
Embracing the culmination
Of a day’s chores
Twilight invites any weariness
Into a slow motion space
Where tomorrow is unkneaded
That in-between place
Where light lingers
And shadows soften
As a sentient glow
Soothes the spirit
And vivifies the soul
Swaddled in the gossamer rest
That has no resemblance to sleep
But akin to dreams
This poem is is unusual for me in that it is not jam-packed with puns, with only one obvious pun and another very subtle one. I wrote this poem last night after taking a leisurely stroll at dusk through my neighborhood, the Old West End historic district in Toledo. I have loved dusk as long as I can remember. I have long loved dusk because of its forgetful knowing. I find a special feel in those in-between places that knead not the past nor the future; a gentle now suffices. There is peace in being freed from any insistence to grapple with awe that looms. Dusk offers a luminosity that is lucid but not urgent. May such refreshing glimpses capture your tension, even if just, before you loose your soul…
