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THAT BEAUTIFUL TIME
Petals fall on crisp white lace
In the still hours of faltering light
The sky crimson,blue and viridian.
Images of the shaman in my mind,
Casting long shadows in the setting sun
On the green mountains where the waters run.
Reflections on dew and the flowers bow low
Bidding farewell to the light as it goes.
And slowly,steadily the light reclines
And the spectrum fades to uniform darkness
But all of this in the beautiful time
To me is equally arresting as just one of your smiles.
Dorothy Murphy.
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