The Closer Side of Night


Faint traces of dark
encroach across my horizon
and sneak ahead
coloring the clouds as they creep

From the nearer side of day
resplendent in fleecy light
I pass to the closer side of night
where my father and I
once sailed to a similar scene
     sunset clouds succumb to color
     twilight at sea

We spoke
     of college applications
     how his job was going
     Uncle Lee's death
He said he was proud
of me


    

 


Five Fewer Teeth is the next poem in Migration Patterns.
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