Wednesday, September 7, 2016

Night Cranes

There are those crepuscular moments

Where all seems right

In the setting sun

When the cranes come out to feed

Flying low over the bay

Their dark forms cutting

through the sunset

like silent black kites

they are yachts of dusky skies

behind a stiff cocktail

and hilarious company

we are made ephemeral in the laughter

shimmering in the distant darkness

they drop into the harbor

plucking fish out of the

reflective membrane of an upside-down world

they harp into obscurity

their casual patience paying off fortuitously

with the distant strumming of a guitar

I am plucking the waves of their minds

we rock through the wake

where brevity is a lantern in the darkness

effectively illuminating their humanity

in simple wisdom

framed in simple emotions

genuine and loving

unable to see the emergent night creatures

perhaps unable to see the darkness at all

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