The Last Dance of the Sun

A humid haze brings gifts
Of rich loam scents and steaming bark.
Clouds weave transient tapestries
In floodlit nuances of gold
And the day sighs and settles,
Caressed to stillness by the fading glow.

Earlier it rained; bright beads
Whispered stories to the spellbound leaves
Of how we twirled on wet grass,
Bare feet slipping in overlapping circles,
With heads thrown back and tongues out
To taste the clouds.

Now, the thick, slow light
Transmutes your skin to honey
And braids incandescent amber
Deep into your hair.
You smile a secret smile and glide
Into the swelling shadows of the house.

I linger in the twilight, listening
To some distant birds and to the trees…
But soon, you lure me inside
With the tempting, luscious smell of coffee
And like the sun, the moment flickers out
To seep into the dark infinity.