A Silhouette

A Sonnet for Twilight

I’m still far from sure that I expressed the imagery that had fascinated me, but here is a sonnet about twilight’s silhouettes. I may have to revisit this some time.

A Sonnet of Dusk

And have you ever thought how very strange
The silhouettes of dusk are? Dark, so dark
Against a silver sky where minutes range
Their varied hues, while colorless and stark
The things of earth fade: leaf and branch and bark
Together blent in one great mass of black
Undifferentiated.  See, the spark
Of red- or green-hued stars or purple wrack
Of clouds illuminate the glowing track
Of early night; below, our longing sight
Learns more than dusk allows; it sees that back
Of all the darkness lie the things of night:
It knows each feather as an owl descends,
Black wings into black treetops, where dusk ends.

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We have had quite a few broods of quail raised in and around the garden, but sadly lost one little hen that had begun to care for eggs under the lavender bush. We miss her morning chatter.

This morning silence,
a melancholy finding,
a fluff of feathers

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