Porch night

Porch night.


The air is thick and sweet.


Until the breeze stirs it.


The night weighs gently

Of a days-off storm,

Pressing softly,

An ephemeral veil,

With edges of un-fallen rain.


The stars glisten,

Crystalline light with edges hazed.



The storm will come.

The rain will fall.

The wind will whip.


Then it will pass away.


Skies will clear.

Things will grow.


Peace on that far edge of the storm.


On this one,

With soft whispers,

A porch night.


Shared skies

Night sky

Open the door.

Into the dark.

Three steps down.



Charcoal trees

With charcoal leaves

Whisper in a warm charcoal breeze

And cover the sky.


One clear space,

A ring in the trees,

Frames a window to the stars above.

Diamonds on slate.



Beneath the stars,

Above the leaves,

A jet carves a path,



Marked by the rhythm of its light

And the faint slash of its contrail

(a faint, pale memory of places been).


The moon hides

This indigo night.


Miles away,

She looks up too.

The jet blinks silently in her sky.


Our sky.


Crickets sing

As we share the sky.