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.
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