Summer Blackberries

We’ve moved to the suburbs;

evening walks are filled

with the silhouettes of tall trees

against the darkening sky,

their simple elegance poignant enough

to make me want to paint them.

As we walk along the winding sidewalks

and down the forest-lined road,

we are surrounded by the smell

of summer blackberries

bountiful enough to make me 12 again—

a grinning girl in cut-off jeans

licking her berry-stained fingers

and rejoicing in being

at home in this world.

Twilight

That lonely hour

between the day and night

between the dark and light

that lonely hour is here

The darkness–not yet complete–

the day–bittersweet–flying away

What could have been or should have been

is over now

My heart’s afloat in this no man’s land

between hanging on, letting go and giving in

accepting that the day was enough

Evening falls on sleepy-eyed dreams of tomorrow

Solitude surrounds me

this lonely hour