Monday, June 20, 2005

Go gentle into that good night, Spring

I watched a thunderhead build in the distance tonight. As the cloud billowed higher and higher, the setting sun seemed to sear its outer edges. A rope of neon orange was embellishing the perimeter of the cloud while the body of the cloud remained a smoky white. But the cloud, stretching into the sky, eventually became saturated with the warm glow of the sun. A translucent white turned fiery. It was as if a smoldering ember ignited somewhere in that cloud and lit it afire. I couldn't help to notice that the vapors above my house too were tinged with hot pink.

fists of cotton mop
teary mascara, rouge stains;
clouds in the sunset

The rain set in - a slight drizzle really - but life doesn't stop for rain here. We topped off the night by going out on the back porch and puffing on a vanilla-tipped cigar. "Now that's a nice, easy-going cigar," Poetroad sighed. "I don't know what I'm doing," I laughed as I took my puffs. I'm a cautious cigar smoker. I once made myself green by inhaling deeply one too many times while smoking with Chandy.

Even though my bare foot stepped on a slug on the way back in, tonight was divine.

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