Turning Down the Day

The sun is slanting
into afternoon

turning down the day
soft as remembered laughter

distilled vigor
its orange ball
nestled in white crinoline
falls into magenta

I hear a dove
call three times
to the dancing tip of a tree

listening unplugged
melts the taciturn temper
of the last down sky

as a wilted spirit seeks to explain
the triumph

of one perfect rose.


Pink Moon

It snuck into the sunset 

then curled into the sky
taking the stars away just like that
without so much as a goodbye

Then later    you see
it came down between two trees
that were perfectly blessed in synchronicity
graceful ballerinas waving limbs around
dressed in darkest evening gowns

The beautiful trio in dance did flaunt
as they looked in the window of a downtown restaurant
and watched my chopsticks daintily take
a most delectable potato cake

As I nudged the waitress with a look see
and she looked at me as if I were daftie
seems only I caught the moon wink
when I told her that it was supposed to be pink