There is a moment in the evening by the sea (poems from old notebooks, April 2008)

There is a moment in the evening by the sea
before all light has left,
after the last red arc of sun has sunk,
when only treetops float in stark relief
against shards of sky like glass broken
from old blue pill bottles, almost purple,
and the edges of everything are smoothed
(as the contours of mountains raised
in the new shudders of continents
grew smooth under the long caress of wind and rain).
There is a moment in the evening
before all light is gone
when the wind subsides, and even crows may pause
to examine the shifting shadows of the heart.

About John MacKenzie

I'll mumble for ya. Poetry, plus most things quantifiable: science, neuroscience, memory, epistemology, baseball. And so on.
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