Sunday, October 19, 2025

poem

 Dawn vs Dusk

The morning broke as rind

Of melon against the darkness

To the east, a warm ambered halo

Around the sainted head 

Of the monkish earth

As usual, the change was gradual

As if the light, refusing to sleep,

Had spent the hooded hours 

Quietly pleading its case,

Promising night it could

Always come back later.


At dusk it’s different.

Through the trees to the west glows 

A faint greenish bluish corona,

Clinical and antiseptic,

Sterilizing some barber’s comb,

The kind of unnatural light

Halogenating science labs

After hours 

Garish illuminations of

Petri dishes, beakers, test tubes 

Or neatly labeled specimens

Tacked to a corkboard

Little pins impaled on

Gizzard

Cloaca

Three chambered heart

A light demanding everyone’s attention

To something you’d rather not know.

Just be dark, I think

And then it is 


10/19/25

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