Twilight



This is a rewrite

Twilight passes slowly this time of year
it lingers upon the western horizon
and outlines the summer sky
in shades of fiery pinkish amber
reflecting motionlessly aloft
above the bounds of earth

The day was long and the sun bids farewell
a solitary firefly illuminates the evening
unaware of or unconcerned with my presence
I intently gaze upon the splendid creature
and take awe in the wonderment of the moment

The wind is still
the traffic moves almost methodically
without a sound, along the narrow highway

I watch the cars as they go by
and watch the glow of their headlights disappearing
silently out of sight

The small white petals of the  blackberry tangles
have since fallen to the ground
replaced by the shiny red fruit still to ripen
along the edge of the wood line
just beyond the suburban landscape

A single row of viburnums stands like soldiers along the hill
planted there perhaps to gaurd against
an unforseen and untimely ill

The brilliant yellow flowers of the lantana just across the way
are busily engaged in their annual summer display
a whippoorwill sings in the distance
the twilight still lingers
the weekend comes to a close
in such a carefree frashion as the night unfolds

Familiar sights, sounds, and memories coagulate in my brain
with too much to be concerned with
to be concerned with anything at all
the darkness has fallen
and I make my way home

A ghost from summers past makes his presence known
he walks the earth with chains around his heart
wound ever so tight
in a whimsically metaphorical sense
he's been here before
we casually reminisce of childhood days in the sun
and of battles lost and won
he lingers in the night

Suddenly a squirrel decides to cross the road
at just the wrong moment
they always have such a bad sense of timing
when it comes to that

I'm reminded how fragile and fleeting
life can sometimes be
and I know but for the grace of God
the ghost could have been me
still he lingers

Closer to home now
the left-over scent of charcoal still smoldering on the grill
drifts through the night as summertime rituals become routine
soon the sky will explode in a massive celebration
in remebrance of the birth of a nation
again I'm reminded of days gone by
the siren of summer sings softly in my ear
sometimes I hear her song all year

The stars have appeared in the spacious sky
the fragrant scent of a mimosa in bloom
hangs heavy in the warm suburban air

I pass the lady walking her funny-looking dog along the sidewalk
she smiles and says hello
her face is familiar, but I don't know her name
the mongrel snorts a half-hearted warning
and I try not to laugh
he's nothing to be concerned with
and my neighbor continues on her way
slowly I take my time and the ghost still lingers

At last my journey is finally complete
and it's nice to be back home
the night is still as I climb the stairs
unlock the door to my apartment and come inside

I'm greeted with silence
and for that I'm very grateful
sometimes it's nice to be alone
another hectic week will begin soon enough
I know that all too well

Outside my window, in the distance
nestled among the summer stars
the moon is glowing bright
at least for now, tranquility abounds
and the world seems right
but I know the magic can't last
it never does for very long
tomorrow will be just another working day
and this summer night will become just another page
too quickly turned

Dead squirrels, viburnums standing like soldiers
and funny-looking dogs will quickly fade
when there's no time left to think about
metaphorical ghosts that carry chains
through quiet suburbun streets at night

Maybe it'll all make sense in the end
maybe one more draft will put the words in order
maybe tomorrow
when there's no time left to linger

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Submitted on March 12, 2013

Modified on March 05, 2023

3:26 min read
7

Quick analysis:

Scheme A BCDEXX FGHEI JKL DGA XXCXX JXJ LLHMXX XNXCO PXAXXCCA XIGX GKXKM XJXCCDXB DXX XQXGXNLM XOXX HXPXF HXAXAXXLXX MXXXA XEQE
Closest metre Iambic pentameter
Characters 3,635
Words 675
Stanzas 20
Stanza Lengths 1, 6, 5, 3, 3, 5, 3, 6, 5, 8, 4, 5, 8, 3, 8, 4, 5, 10, 5, 4

Larry Groves

Horticulturist,poet and novelist Larry Groves lives in Huntsville, AL. Honorable Mention recipient of the 2006 Writer's Digest Short Story and Poetry Contest, he is currently working on his next novel. more…

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