The storm clouds gather overhead
raindrops wash the windowpanes
collars turned up against the wind
people like ants scurry around.
A time before darkness
as the day comes to a close
a time of sleepy eye
and the closing of a rose
lights like stars begin to blink
as shadows’ fingers stretch.
Sky like ploughed field
wanders to the sun.
A time before darkness
before another day must close
silence with no stirring word
ghosts of what has gone before.
A time of peace and gentleness,
a pause before day is done.
19 April 1979
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem