Gloaming, Bernie White Hatcher

Gloaming

                  

rainbow hues lengthen

as the sun nears

its horizon bluing

the trees the roof

of the distant sheds lavender clouds

preside over evening

vespers a candle-lit moment soft

malleable 

when I first moved

in the ground was nearly bereft of life

my gnarled hands carried water reviving green foliage every sprout painstakingly tended but today’s

rows diverge ragged

as my wheezing

though I can’t see

the vanishing point

from where I sit,

I hear the nighthawk

murmur its benediction between the falling light

and rising darkness

its wings bending time calling me to fly

beyond porous bones

Pat Martin