and the dark can be our halfway

let it be the constant place where we meet
let me wrap my arms around your delicate frail being
and mess your hair up with my fingers;

for in the dark there’s no need to hide
behind masks dearly known as our comfort zones
nor tread under cautious words

the dark provides a blanket of safety,
it knows about the blackest parts;
yours and mine and vulnerability,

in the dark you’ll find nothing but candour

the sunset can wait
-let’s hang in the dark for longer

who really knows
who really understands
how is it true
or not
does the homeless person know what time it is
did the ant you stepped on feel anything
the sunset shared by millions across the globe, was it appreciated
was it valued
desert winds, stirring up the ancient sands, is it admired
is it honored
waters in the clouds, falling with raw force to the earth, is it glorified
is it
how do you know
how do you know

Brian Hill - 2020 # 168

on the wake of day
ah! I stir her hornet nest -
now longing sunset.

there is solace in the path untraveled
when it leads to the sea's tranquility

I hear the sound of the water's roar
see waves crashing out on the beach

feel the wind brush across my face
as I taste the ocean's salty kiss

then a perfect sunset paints a scene
of purples and reds and tangerine

watch the stars slowly dot the sky
sprinkling lights across a velvet night

listen as the night birds call to me
fly away with us, set your heart free

and when fireflies are flitting around
like starlets plucked from high above

I return to where this started from
refreshed enough to visit my dreams....

I was burnt to the core,
In the seething sun's fire.
There was ash all across
Aloft eccentricities' desire.
Sprawling nebulae of blue,
Lasting more than a flicker.
It was light years, I flew,
Mad lust, none did figure.
Fierce love for the ball
And the fire in it raging.
As I crashed at my fall,
Just to rise as an aching.
Blackened coal, elemental
Ashen gray, smeared rife.
Thus I ran, and fell waning
And wax, till exited ..  life.

A touch of the setting sun
clouds redly stained
the wind skims through jungles
and mountains
then stops
at the entrance to the valley
solitary whispers of birds
awaits
wandering alone
in the wilderness of time
sun gradually drops
a few big trees
hold up the sky
in this valley i'm reaching
as if trying to catch yesterday's sun.

She said her name was 'Sunset'
I gaped in awe at her beautiful palette
Such a rare beauty, a wondrous masterpiece
Her sole presence diffusing timorous eyes with hope

She whispers to me, "I'm sorry, I am of no aid."
If only she knew,
That she has been humanity's source of comfort
Ever since the world decayed