In the late afternoon I drew with shades of gray between the
necks of my bottles, looking for subtle contrasts in gray and white. At 4:30 I
quit to take the dog for her spin. As we rounded the corner of the hillside by
the pond there was a flock of six swans. Two of them were young, still a bit gray.
The slight shifts in white and gray against
the sunset colors felt just like my drawn background. With their necks extended
and twisted I saw bottles in my imagination. We circled the pond, up the road
and back down the driveway. As we stood
at the crest of the road, the swans took off and circled overhead, now warm gray
against the cool blue-gray sky. These dog
walks as the evening moves into darkness feel centered with grays, while later walks
from studio to house are uncentered by the darkness's brute strength before the
moon has risen.
Keep writing in the dark:
a record of the night, or
words that pulled you from the
depth of unknowing,
words that flew through your
mind, strange birds
crying their urgency with human
voices,
or opened
as flowers of a tree that blooms
only once in a lifetime:
words that may have the power
to make the sun rise again.
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