Two medallions

a beaming gold orb brightens our sight, at night a pale medallion hangs from a string...

Two medallions

Earth wears her jewelry one piece at a time. By day, a beaming gold orb brightens our sight, at night a pale medallion hangs from a string of pearls, the gift of the stars.

Here between tall dark pines, one doesn't see the sun set, only feels that it's being put away as a silver platter rises over mountains to the east, a tint of peach on distant clouds. It's calm and quiet, almost peaceful, except for mosquitoes that I long to swat. Then do.

Brown earth of mole mounds, grass only green in the shade, damp near the ditch. Ants meander beneath halos of hawkeyes now gone to seed, today's yellow rays closed up, gone to bed. The sky loses its color; leaves high in the tulip tree flutter.

I have eaten my fig bar, finished drinking my milk, I solemnly wait. A donkey brays in the distance; a train blows its horn.

This day has worn out its welcome.

Faint smells, faint sounds, faint sight. The senses betray me with age as we-both lose our grip and slide into night. Oh, for the moon!

...the eternal horizon of night.

         moon-rise
         two medallions
         the sun sets

© Kåre Enga [166.192.J2144-5] 2009-09-02