Stone of Evening


The stone of evening tells me

Live for those few glances shared

A blue as hard and sweet as longing

Golden-crowned, he spares

A voice and space still empty

Humbled by the evening

His distance is my keeping

A fleeting, secret wonder

Where he lays roots in dreaming.


Image of Howl from Alpha Coders.

A Watcher Only

Forget me, amid the revelry

The incandescent swathes below

Served from my cups gone cold

Crisp in the heat and haze and glow

Neither envy nor reproaches

Pierce the vibrant compass through

And thrice unheard is to forget

All, save how I miss you


Elizabeth Cook, 2016.