It's You
The Sun does not set each day
it is obscured;
its red finger-lights,
its rushing sun beams
retreat
blushed into embarrassment.
The green spot
at sunset
over water
is an exclamation point.
It's You.
I have seen the Firmament
draw its curtains closed;
I have seen Inner Night
recline on Silk-Covered Anticipations.
Its You.
Winds quiet.
Beasts are soothed,
all is twilight.
It's You.
Thunder soft,
gathering intensity
fueled
by nothing but a smile
it seems;
descends;
once again
magic time
comes real.
Each time spackled expection.
Each time cart-wheeling surprize
Each time unreal.
In the quiet rush
I hear foot-steps.
It's You
The room has no oxygen;
only night perfumes
and loving humors.
Under cover
gather
earth, sun and moon
because in glittering night
they all live here
in our room.
It's You.
poem by Lonnie Hicks
Added by Poetry Lover
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