It is towards evening
(From Apple Cider by Cathy Smith, Copyright c 2016, Cathy Smith)
It is towards evening
when I finally realize
that the day is like the
evergreen: dark and light
growth in its fullness.
The final cool end of the day
comes high on top of the trees
as if the cooling and heating
of the earth and the broad stars
at midnight are threatening not to
reappear, as the light through
the woods flickers out like a match.
Never mind,
they say that the stars
are not permanent but have been
burning relentlessly for billions
of years and, just now (and when
we can see their
light in the rising darkness
of the sky far away)
they burn again
underneath a wash of clouds
over the continuous sound of
the ocean --
all night long
until the morning
and on towards evening again --
when the dark evergreen
in its fullness reaches
for the coolness
in the deeper tides
of indigo.
It is towards evening
when I finally realize
that the day is like the
evergreen: dark and light
growth in its fullness.
The final cool end of the day
comes high on top of the trees
as if the cooling and heating
of the earth and the broad stars
at midnight are threatening not to
reappear, as the light through
the woods flickers out like a match.
Never mind,
they say that the stars
are not permanent but have been
burning relentlessly for billions
of years and, just now (and when
we can see their
light in the rising darkness
of the sky far away)
they burn again
underneath a wash of clouds
over the continuous sound of
the ocean --
all night long
until the morning
and on towards evening again --
when the dark evergreen
in its fullness reaches
for the coolness
in the deeper tides
of indigo.