
though mornings break
and evenings fall
they never make
a sound at all
for clumsy dawn
and tipsy dusk
exist upon
the thinnest cusp
they’ll never know
the wondrous light
or undergo
the dark of night
but dwell in time
all of their own–
a murky kind
of twilight zone
–photo by me
I am familiar with that twilight, the casino-like lighting that falls like a shroud during ‘round the clock drinking. Don’t miss it, but I know I will crave that grey-ness again at some point. Noticing the sunrise and sunset and other wonders of nature (as you do) is one way to stave off the inertia of depression. Thank you for this.
LikeLike
Thank you, you see far. I’m coming up on 6 months sober, and I guess my drunken past underlies much of my writings
LikeLike
And I appreciate that!
LikeLike
Such lively words and picture!
LikeLike
Thank you very much!!
LikeLike
Great photo!! And I especially like the first 4 lines of the poem!
LikeLike
Thank you, I think the first lines are very important.
LikeLiked by 1 person
This is definitely one for your Book To Be! Lovely.
LikeLike
You are too nice! Thank you!
LikeLike