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Through Glass-Almost Darkly

Dusk falls swiftly
and without apology.
Uninvited as ever,
I watch the amber
streetlamps compliment
the bloody sky.


The last butterfly
of summer serenades
the lonely flowers.
The long grass bows,
mockingly, in the late
evening zephyr.


A bedraggled cat
stalks an unknown
prey. From somewhere
a muster of peacocks
mourn the passing
of daylight.


A discarded paper
bag rushes east
to west to keep
a late appointment.
Nothing is happening,
yet everything
is happening.
Silently, secretly,
from my window
I watch.

© Copyright 1999, Paul Suckling.
All Rights Reserved. Printed By Permission.