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Afterglow
Afterglow
Yesterday night, I looked up to the sky,
Carefully examining a pale speckling
Of stars. Dusky splotches soon covered my
Vision, leaving a verdigris ceiling.
I waited for the constellations to
Appear, cluttering what was beclouded—
Embellishing the unseen in bright hues—
Yet, still, the sky had remained enshrouded.
Each ancient star hid behind its shadow,
And the suffusive cloak of circumstance—
In shades not adorned by the afterglow;
Rather, by shades of suggestive desistance.
It was as if this veil had insisted
The sky as it was never existed.
poem
by
Tim Stensloff
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