where art collides

The sun set

an hour ago,

yet

through the kitchen window

I see clear to the bottom of the garden.

There, in the sumach,

singing still

and undeterred

by the cat lurking at the pond,

a blackbird

proclaims its domain.

Beyond,

the cathedral,

not yet lit,

a silhouette,

jet

against blue-green sky.

Then I hit the switch

and from over my head

fluorescent white

turns the dark on outside.

This entry was posted on Sunday, February 28th, 2010 at 6:30 pm and is filed under poems. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.