SENSING NIGHT

“Turn on the light
so I can hear you,”
she says, and I reach
for the switch across the room.
“Please whisper,” I respond
“and I may be able to see
my way to the window.”
I draw up the shade
and in the dim glow
of the night’s light
I feel the braying
of a coyote in the Sandia hills,
hear the conversation

of leaves descending,
and taste the chill
of autumn, that wraps
the house in its soft
blue-black velvet grip.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s