“Do you know," Peter asked, "why swallows build in the eaves of houses? It is to listen to the stories.” ~ J.M. Barrie, Peter Pan

10.11.2011

the looseness of night



after the pink, the sky looked like storms,
and i was with it,
i was with it,
driving through the almost darkness into night be here now,
baseball on the radio,
bone tired from a day that fit too tight,
the leftover noise still loud 
and beating hard against the moon.

but even such days as these hold gifts.

at last home, i unlocked the door
and the waiting cat was off into the night,
under the trees, stalking the finally silent moon;
the shadow of an owl flew out from the corner magnolia,
crossing the street, then back.
i followed its sound from tree to tree
until it settled at last in the hackberry.

the night fits so much better than the day,
just skimming my skin, a barely there touch.
i slipped into it without even noticing.

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11 comments:

  1. Oh! You have the gift, woman! Those last three lines totally changed my nrevous sytem~~I am there with you in that place.
    Thanks.

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  2. when we meet, we'll sit up late into the night. maybe there will be owls. xoxo

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  3. You have such an amazing way with words . . . they washed over me like a lullaby.

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  4. night fits so much better than day, like the welcome relief of rain after a dry spell

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  5. "the night" skimming my skin and slipping into it... - ah how perfect an ending

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  6. "but even such days as these hold gifts".

    yeh, baby. you know it. the beauty of your words, they be the gifts of THIS day.

    xo

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  7. your words, your sentences, your thoughts never fail to intrigue me. and always, always calm me.
    amazing words...
    thank you emma tree.
    in fond regard, Tilda

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  8. i love so many lines in this, but i think these are my favorite:
    "bone tired from a day that fit too tight,
    the leftover noise still loud
    and beating hard against the moon."

    I know that day, that noise, that poor cringing moon.

    this is filled with magic, the magic you spin so beautifully, the magic i love.

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  9. holding these words and images in my heart

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  10. Where does this stuff come from in you?
    Seriously.

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come. sit under the emma tree & let's talk. i have cookies . . .