No Blood Red Sky

Sit, watch the evening low and born today of but three last clouds A bruding closeness threatening about the body and house Await the door bell in one hour she comes maybe just at close of day Tomorrow not signalled as good just yet by sky red notes and sheperd's deilght Wind calmly waving the chestnut tree and Holly tree no blood red berry to offer up Adjust the wicker chair. Looked, a heron zed shaped and flat lining across the last two clouds With grace and solitude well heard but lost against the descending blue night An orange and pink of quick left and right brush strokes blazes the sky At horizon's edge it sits pushing towards me towards my window so quick Within the blink of moving my red wicker chair there's no blood red wickered sky above As night closes ever more a plane a double trail of vapours lays it's lines before the sky it heads west to Atlantic waves 25 miles yonder Laid double pink but not red disolving at one end all the time The door bell alerts my love announces do you like my new dress A dress so red and bright for my birthday night but not blood red to match the sky night The night arrives and bows to the blue of day now in hews of deeper orange darker pink darker pink brown. Grey lines interlaced. It chokes and tightens Squeezing away it's last colours but not quite not quite. I look no more Two sugars or one my love my favourite red cup. The day breathes it's last. Colours gone to blackened clouds my cup red but not a blood red sky tonight.