As this suburban summer wanders toward dark
Cats watch from their driveways - they are bored
And await miracles. The houses show, through the windows flashes of knife and fork, the blue light
Of televisions, inconsequential fights
Between wife and husband in the guest bathroom
Voices sound like and echoes in these streets
The chattering of awful as they plot
Behind the juniper and ivy, miniature guerillas
That mimic the ancient news of the world
And shout threats, piped high across mock fences
To girls riding by in the last pieces of light
The colour of the sky makes brilliant reflection
In the water and along the curb
Deepend aqua and the sharp pure rose of the clouds
There is no sun or moon, few stars wheel
Above the domestic scene - this half lit world
Still, quiet calming the dogs worried by distant alarms
There- a woman in a window washes a glass
A man across the street laughs through the open door
Utterly alien, alone. There is a time, seconds between The last light and the dark stretch ahead, when colour
Is lost - the girl on her swing becomes a swift
Apparition, black and white flowing into the night
The world in the evening by Rachel Sherwood
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The Life Of Poetry
PoetryThis story is filled with poetry each being dirrerent and if you would like your poem to be featured please feel free to contact me on Instagram at strawberrycheescake_charlie
