Yellow Sky
Perhaps it is the yellowing autumnal foliage
that the evening light reflects,
or it could be the yellow corvette
parked beneath this particular tree
that up-lights the sky?
Dusk brings diaphanous flights
of jonquil-tinted clouds
The horizon retires
embedding itself
within a canopy of brocaded gold,
a gown so embossed, so quilted,
it has become too deep
to be lifted.
The headlights of the corvette
gleam their seeking suns.
Night drives out
sweeping before it
russet murmurings.
May their dying prayers
illuminate the dawn.
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