I love the energy of night
You can feel it, you know-
Seeping out of the ground,
Filling the air with and electric buzz
Sleepy people also release energy
Out, out to the night,
Until very late
When even it grows tired and still
And the energy condenses into dew
Until morning.

I look for twilight,
The dim purplish light
Signifying neither day or night
But merely time,
held in lofty suspension
For precious few moments,
Not so blinding as day
Nor as smothering as night
But a momentary lapse
In the gaps between heaven and here,
Wherever here might be.

I'll see you next December
When the crisp leaves crack
And heads tilted back
To taste the snow- remember
Me, and our lovely flurry embers,
I'll never forget forever
***
With you next December
(I'll be)

I like to get truely confused at the world.
At all the finicky things we avoid thinking about.
Like exactly how big the universe is,
Forever is hard to understand.
Or life.
Yes, life.
Not the meaning of it,
That's like 'what's the meaning of light?'
It just is.
No, I mean how.
How do plants grow?
That is, physically change size
What was before the big bang?
Or how aliens are like a cat
Well, Schrödinger's cat
See the universe is so big
They MUST exist!
But... At the same time, not at all.
Huh.
Also, what do things go 'boom'
Could animals swim inside the earth?
Is it possible to bend forces (like gravity)?
Yea, a lot of spacey questions.
Do we only think animals see black and white,
not just a different spectrum?

Sigh. I'll stop now.
Brain freeze.

Drawing the essence of the earth,
Up, but with trembling fingers
Spun thinner than spider legs
Quivering like a leaf in Autumn
But still, steady enough
To slowly pull out the thin, winding string
That bound you here,
Delicate like the first hope after despair
Longer, longer,
Until you can make a scarf,
Slowly twisting the ends,
And give it away
Because they needed it more,
And it will all be worth it.

Trying to feel the thinness of air,
Running through your fingers like silk
Gently pushing around you in a soft embrace
Intangible tendrils wisping around your face
Ever present,
And forgotten

Tin can busses fill rapidly,
Stop.
And bleed like tuna.

Gleaming towers of ice rise
Sharp heads swathed in haze
Piercing dusty morning skies
Over a sea of diamonds

Cars march dutifully like ants
On strings of suspended steel
Purposeful like tight rope walkers
And travel in white boxes
in the morning

The silky water glides
Over a mirror of fish;
Cool like silver
Flirting with hot summer air,
Dancing with waterbugs
And kissing my fingertips
With a smile as blue as the sky