Dusk Words

Gloaming is knowing the dust

of words and worlds, 

transition time, the hourglass hour,

quicksand skies, sighing slipway

into the lordly, proper dark.

Purple cloak cast wide over vales,

the crimson net, dream cast,

slow tick pulse of addled time,

drugged syrup mix of minutes.

The sun sledgehammered in velvet

by the fairground mallet of night,

pop up dark in a box.

This rockinghorse trancing hour.

The bye bye blue sky,

sighing and lulls,

smudged pastel firmament

(no one for me tonight),

loverlorn space after day,

and before (I pray) for 

talons of night to dispel.

the light.