A foggy mist collides with eventide
As heaven’s hidden flame dissolves away,
And lumined, luminous light is swept aside
As greens and browns bleed into shades of gray.
The chill-damp autumn air—bestirred—descends
And settles heavy on the dim-seen earth
To serve as labor-bed from which ascends
The silent darkness of a new-night’s birth.
With cold caress the clinging mantled cloud,
In billowed folds of blackened dew-filled fleece,
Enfolds fair-fallen day as in a shroud
Where weary yesterdays find their surcease.
A shroud and womb from which as-yet-unborn
Tomorrows will arise to greet the morn.
James A. Tweedie has lived in California, Utah, Scotland, Australia, Hawaii, and presently in Long Beach, Washington. He has published six novels, four collections of poetry, and one collection of short stories with Dunecrest Press. His award-winning poetry has appeared both nationally and internationally in both online and print media.
