At the Reservoir

  • July 27, 2018
  • Posted by Miriam Genheimer

Here is where the weight of evening clouds
and steady strokes of water
wander through lullabies
knowingly passed between the songbirds.

Alpinglow makes the shore blush for its whisper
and gently it goes
up among the trees; up to their crowns
to anoint the overcoming moon sky.

And now the evening takes away my name - 
welcomes me in to what I could not be
in the high and lonesome sun.


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