The winds from the south
touched my skin with warm fingers
as bright day faded to memory
Twilight a liminal seam between
the day’s bright lines and angles
and the watercolor world of dreams
The blue hour brings chemical changes
to mind and senses, and paints
the edge of the world right up to our feet
A changing of the light guard as
shadows erase boundaries and
bright colors drain into earth
Night steals in
fast and dark over water
the earth curls up within its shadow
Breathe indigo and know
the moon sails high in the canvas sky
the sun slumbers in the lands of Tír na nÓg
Tír na nÓg: as used here, an enchanted island off the west coast of Ireland.
Thanks for reading
Beautiful language, Ken. This line especially intrigued me:
“Twilight a liminal seam between
the day’s bright lines and angles
and the watercolor world of dreams”
Enchanting, rich and magical poetry, Ken