Tuesday, March 22, 2016

Setting Sun



To the woman who inspires poetry: Happy 99th Birthday Grandma!!




               Setting Sun

Dawn:

Over that thin, mysterious line,
     so far off and yet alarmingly near
Out of that murky and muting indigo womb,
     but still mantled in its maroon, aliment smear

Pressing and pricking at yonder rim
     in irreverent indifference to her threshold breach
She lunged for her first gulp of breath
     and grasped the world with a seagull’s screech


Morning:

Good fortune, juvenile gambol and inquisitive abandon
     are woven to a pulley’s chord   
That hoists with ease the blushing star
     from wait and worry still unmoored

All along the steep incline and her timid march 
     toward finial height
She dreamed of tender love and ample life 
     and kissed the earth with her gentle, virgin light 

Midday:

Anchored severely to the middle of the sky
     early dew long run off by torrid drought
Harsh winds that wither dreams, temper desire, 
     scorch ambition, sow but little doubt 

Her course set, charges multiplied, cares increased,   
     and scarcity mounting to a swelter
She labored without ceasing to move that dial 
     and give her wards some shade or shelter

Afternoon:

Emancipated from that confining, grinding crest
     and freed to travel further round the globe
Slicing long and spear-like through the landscape
     in a curious javelin probe

Undaunted resourcefulness transforming streams to
     liquid gold and glades to emerald stone
She planted her luminous assets with universal scope 
     and reaped what her frugal hands had sown 

Sunset:

Graceful and composed in a slender, ebony silhouette,  
     ruby-tipped fingers, and a silver crescent crown
The same soft brush now indulging edgy techniques
     and an unfamiliar palette to paint the town

Offering a last exhibition of her authentic voice
     before reclining in her widow’s bed
She ventured out on a final solo endeavor
     and splurged on a bolder shade of red


. . . And soon, our setting sun 

              will be but another’s rising one.


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