Meek April Dusk

This spring dusk welcomesnight like an old frienddressed in a blue haze vest

walking slantwise overfields the color of eggplant,cabbage, berries. The old lady

who lives by the pondwith the wind for her loomercontinues to crochet

soft skeins, weaving theminto frocks, shawls, even burial cloaks.She does not fret night peeking

under her lilac and lily bedsplanted along the cobbled banks.There's the scent of dogwood

and honeysuckle in the April air.The moon is a dialtelling sacred time

rejoicing in the resurrectionof the stars with their spotsof pure color in heaven's garden.