Stage of Gloom
The birds have vanished into the sky.
I stand at the moonless window, only random fireflies
kindling the somberness. No trace of a pale moon
hiding behind a gossamer cloud, no red-tailed star
—Bleached Bones by Elizabeth Howard
The dog days of summer have steamed on by,
winds of autumn are blowing strong,
storm clouds clustering in the west,
the birds have vanished into the sky.
The crickets have chirped their last, turned quiet,
tree frogs have hushed their raucous voice,
white-tailed deer start prowling the night,
at the moonless window, random fireflies
gnaw early darkness, sparkle stunned air.
Bears start scouting their logs and caves,
creatures are sensing big change as nature
kindles a somberness. No trace of pale moon
lightening the sky or raising the curtain
on a stage of gloom. An impending doom
that seems queued to come, the planets hidden
and gossamer clouds hide red-tailed stars.
Wesley Sims has published three chapbooks of poetry: When Night Comes, Finishing Line Press, Georgetown, Kentucky, 2013; Taste of Change, Iris Press, Oak Ridge, TN, 2019; and A Pocketful of Little Poems, Amazon, 2020. His work has appeared in Artemis Journal, Bewildering Stories, Connecticut Review, G.W. Review, Liquid Imagination, Pine Mountain Sand & Gravel, Plum Tree Tavern, Novelty Magazine, Poem, Poetry Quarterly, Time of Singing, The South Carolina Review, and several others.
Image credit: Shiny starlight (freedesignfile.com) colorized red