The evening sun pours

a dayful of deep colours –


into the fish pond.

Honeycombs of light
****** themselves into being
in metro fields.
Children cross the lush
to skip stones at the dead fence
as night assembles itself
into spaces and stars.

Day falls away like a skin,
beneath conquering belts of milk
that separate from a lidless emptiness.
Silver subway trains gleam
in their charcoal tunnels.
Apart from all of it
is a chalk morsel moon.

Sometimes you are
the thrown stone
sinking down to post
& sometimes you are
the star wheeling off tether.

Rain;eventide
Ever so slow, a drizzle
Misty leaves,drenched earth
Shaded yard, wet stones...
Quietly, I snuck out into the evening
Broken slippers,potted plants,
One abloom;fragrant white flowers
Below ashen skies.

Every one is celebrating,
enjoying the festive evening
with drinks in each hands.
Fireworks and lanterns
made this season much more special.
While i celebrate this night,
with my blankets on  and tears on my cheeks.

Every one is celebrating
while I'm silently dying.

Summer's heat lingered in the sky,
The setting sun no longer bright,
Distant buildings like sentinels,
Were outlined in the dimming light.
  
Alone in my back balcony,
Nursing a dwindling glass of wine,
I felt a welcome breeze blowing,
Keeping the evening cool and fine.

A night plane winged across the sky,
Its twin lights blinking from afar,
I could see it drawing closer,
Twinkling like a lonely star.
  
And slowly I was drawn again,
To these thoughts of living and why,
All of us are here and there,
Beneath this lovely evening sky.

Shadows slide along

the tree line in the evening:


the wood gatherers.

the voyage of innumerable miles
furnished strength, of a thousand sails
guiding each yonder the reach
off to a boundless expanse
of the new tomorrow

in countenance
with arms outstretched
to tolerate contentment
to acclimate to the average
and want for far less
smiling

In the peace
and solitude of the room
I want to write one last poem
the candle searches diligently for fuel
soon I see the last glimpse of it's light

Just one more glass then
one last drink on this day
which slowly slides to her end
and morning light
may greet us tomorrow

The candle extinguishes
I am alone
and in the light of the moon
it is dark and quiet on the street
the poem is written
and it's time
to go to bed.