Dusk Floods In
The end of day brings forth
the shadowed dusk
seeping like flood waters
blue, green and brown
from a creek
just out of sight
below the treed hill
the shadow-flood rises
from its source— East
sluicing across the soil
over still-dead winter grass
gathering in the dips and hollows
gathering into shadow puddles
where past seasons’ debris
floats in eddies and swirls
leaves and branches rush forward
rising up, rising up
the evening-water brings more offerings
the feathered quiet of the birds
the mirrored moon
and the silent stars
I turn my back on the gloried sun
setting in a sky of pink and sepia
and wade through the floodgate
into the welcoming dusk
Pamela Olson, 3/24/08
