It’s not always dark at night.
But sometimes the transition between day and night is unmistakable.
The day may fade into ho-hum waves of gray-blue, but—just as one is tempted to look away–the horizon can blaze back in a band of coral and lavender before settling in for the night. Or a city might surprise us by bathing a building or bridge in startling new colors.
And sometimes nightfall brings not a lingering, shimmering sunset rainbow, but breaks into black depths described by Charles Wright:
“Clear night, thumb-top of a moon, a back-lit sky.
Moon-fingers lay down their same routine
On the side deck and the threshold, the white keys and the black keys.
Bird hush and bird song. A cassia flower falls.”
” . . . . And the wind says “What?” to me.
And the castor beans, with their little earrings of death, say “What?” to me.
And the stars start out on their cold slide through the dark.
And the gears notch and the engines wheel.”
Love in the Spaces 