The Gloaming

Another work day has come to a close

A time when its ok to retreat into ourselves and our own

Men and women home from toil, brains worn

The day’s sweat drying into their shorts

The house dim and cool

Cat curled quietly in a soft chair

No sound but the refrigerator’s hum

Fingers cramped from queuing keys

scratch the ears of dogs eager with greeting

Eyes aching and screen weary

fall on peace

amidst the voices of children finishing their homework

with the evening news calling out in the next room

It’s the time of day when folks of times past

sat on their front porches and listened to the whippoorwills

in the fading light of gloaming

A time when all the world takes a breath

Somewhere off in the distance of the evening

a dog barks, a mother calls her children in to supper

the fertile day’s flower fades

and the whippoorwill calls unheard

into the strange, cool stillness


©2020 Lenny Wells

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