A Turning Light

By evenings turning light I have entered myth and legend. Dusk never lies it only undresses one fantasy to reveal another. It is good to sip a glass of ruby wine as a blushing sun descends into another invisible sea. I imagine the creatures that swim there, many have human faces and the soft brown eyes of a faithful dog. Lovers and those that have not been loved enough take upon themselves the shapes of the cosmos. Starlit, they swim or fly away to return in the morning light as my brother and sister. Some friends are lost, but only until that dawn when we are all found again. The sun is dipping into a tangerine and sherbet Atlantis. White horses are turning to dappled dolphins. An old guys watery eyes watch, his lips stained red with an everyday poetry.