Before Night Comes
It happened on a hillside in Pequea,
we retired and burned the moving boxes,
the ones done traveling between jobs and houses.
We sit here and wait for inevitable night,
refit the house, try to tame the land,
unpack books and mementos
of holidays, jobs and the children’s lives.
We set outfew treasures to keep us company,
attack land tangled with thorns and vines,
establish a garden, plant perennials and fruit trees.
Each night before dark comes,
I stop whatever I’m doing
rush outside and look east
where deep shadows march towards night,
check for yellow light caught in tree branches,
on sides of houses and barns.
Then I turn west for the light show of dusk,
a brilliant crone’s scarf that collects
the rich colors and words of the passing day
and put on my scarf before night comes.
published January 5, 2016 (Panoplyzine Issue 2/ Winter 2015/2016)