Life With Horace

poetry & essays


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Mountain top

Stars began to drop
into the growing dark
of a clear night sky
as I came down
the mountain
to our woods
the trail familiar
boots sure in waning light

I went up alone
wanting the feel of you
knowing you would ride
the swirl of wind
on every peak
including mine

I sat waiting, the
wolf burn bare granite
still comfort warm
close to sunset
my words escaping
into the rising drafts
as song, wait for me
I will be there given time



sunset in a small town


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passing through town to home

the day has changed from bright
to scrims of clouds washed sky blue pink
backdrop to summer quiet playing fields

further south a sidelong glance
at underbelly clouds thick swathed peach red
flying over marshes at the river curve

in town the day is winding down
cars and people move intent on fuel
and food and rest for it’s been hot

and by the time the single light releases me
to turn due west deep pink to purple blasts
are shouting over pines and spires

I steal a look into our cafe’s glow
observe last patient walks for dogs
church supper signs and flags

the colors quickly leach away
though day’s end light remains enough
to cover hilly rattle roads

then rollercoasting mountain arms
a final sling to home beside the pond
in time to greet a rising moon

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even though going through town takes longer, I love to observe and watch along the way. the other night the stages of what proved to be a spectacular sunset were a marvelous backdrop to my small country town in the middle of summer.