Saturday's Poem (Set at Twilight)

Sorry that I've been away, but the time has gotten away from me of late. I have been productive, however, both reading & writing poetry, as well as inching forward on a play. On Monday I debuted a recent poem at the Yippie Cafe, and am posting it here for my readers on this gray-skied Saturday in Brooklyn. Enjoy.

Twilight’s Dance

For a moment,

You may own the setting sun,

As you hold your beloved in your arms,

Experiencing waves

Of high & low

Streaming through you as the light

Gleams past the window pane,

The CD shifting from staccato morbidity

Into a lush romanticism,

You lay in bed

Drying tears

And savoring how now,

After all those stumbling attempts of the past,

Everything finally feels right,

Converging on this moment

That you know is pure luck

That can never be repeated exactly as it is:

Enfolding both past and present

As well as the promises of the future,

The good that shall come out of us,

Flowing from this twilight’s dance.