A MOON OF UNUSUAL BRIGHTNESS
by Eric Merrell
In a twilight of yellows and sunset greens
Coursing above, azure wildly careens,
Then subsides into blue; indigo slows, rearranged.
The sharp distance dries, while carmine has aged
Into gray-sifted twilight, condensing half-night;
The desert remains in this watchful half-light.
Dusk dims the hills, dimensionality subsides
Where the bright and declining horizon resides.
Fringed palmate fingers, unfolded and cut
Like a hand of construction paper, abut
Two boundaries, two patterns, of shadow and light
Formed simply, purely, of day fitting night.
A vague muddled smudge, an indistinct glance
Barely detected across murky expanse.
Assuredness step-stumbles in dusky maze;
Familiarity departs, undiscerned in the haze.
Unknowns emerge, the known then takes pause.
Vast diffuse mud hills blur through the gauze.
Staring, shadowy masses ahead disappear,
Then re-form on the margins faded and near.
Nothing seems to exist here, on a small hill
Within a silent land, night-shrouded and still.
Nearby, a small dark cluster is in dimness enfolded,
Bunched together, living, but from quiet molded.
On this side of midnight, in the desert by a seep
Clarity rustles close from a neighboring heap.
Adjusting my stance, from which issues a sound—
Something does exist here on that near mound.
The sand underfoot, compressed and crushed,
Becomes formless night, while entirety lies hushed.