|A SUMMER EVENING IN CARSON VALLEY|
Air floats tonight, enshrouds,
strands of heat, filaments of cool, woven.
Rose and lavender lace
into sky’s faded chambray.
Dusk walks a leisured pace
through cottonwoods on the hill,
exhales fine breath across the lawn.
Finches treble quick announcement.
I watch for the first star.
Sky’s hem silvers to cobalt
blue, gray silk draping above.
Young birch stretch
their supple limbs, sway
to twilight’s silent pulse.
Their sea of endless sand-dollar leaves
whispers, Who? in a language I feel
was once my own.
Sage’s hot fragrance curls as incense.
Night’s cathedral slowly lights
From somewhere, I hear wild grasses,
cowled under thick blue dark,
© Copyright 2007 Susan M. Botich