Late Light
Once again, late light stretches
its tawny body across the dry meadow.
Sorrow-edged and reluctant,
it lets loose its grasp of the thin world,
sliding the trees into shadow.
A coolness rings my shoulders.
I gather my breath, and hold still.
In the underbrush, birds and mice
look fervently for seeds.
Three deer glide silently
into the open and graze.
My aloneness pitches skyward
and falls, as a great white owl
dips over the grasses,
opens its wings
to the night.
*
The Days and Nights Are Passing
Across the long, fenced yard
a bird, gray, nondescript
hatches its twilight dance,
its relentless scratching
against the dull, dry earth.
A black cadence, the day’s
shadow rises with the moon,
the coupling met with grave
indifference, like the glances
of strangers, hands gathering
apples, the snapping of stems
in the boughs of trees.
*
Julie Suhr (she/her) is a writer/editor living in Los Angeles, California, who has worked extensively in the fields of publishing, healthcare and mental health services. She holds master’s degrees in English and Counseling Psychology. Julie began writing poetry at a young age and often explores her relationship with nature and the environment in her work. She is honored to have her first published poems, “Late Light” and “The Days and Nights Are Passing,” appear in ONE ART.
Gorgeous poems! Thank you!