A Poem

The Sunset

Dropping softly into the fields like a drop-

let of rain, slipping itself through the grass

and over the hills to this town we call home.

It glides through the streets, rises over cars

and dashboards, down past sleeping moments

and children playing with firecrackers.

It floats past bars and restaurants, through doors

and up the stairs of our house, splitting off

to shoot one ray of light to you      and one to me.

I’ll mold it and you’ll let it go, let it fly

again out the window to the brightening stars.

Mine will lie flat on the kitchen table

simmering with the stew     chilling with the wine –

allowing itself a moment to sit – to rest

among the salt and the pepper – to smile out loud

at the moon      taking its shift with the sky.