The last of the 8 o’clock sunsets

The clouds are dragon tongues,
painted Nordic boats
and they blow me back to Scotland,
to the fall,
to shrill winds and leafless trees,
to the comfort of wool
and soup,
smoked fish,
and sleep.

Now the shrubs are shriveled, closed
umbrellas waiting to be opened —
and the grass is drawn dry,
the color of the hills
in the Highlands.

It’s the last of the 8 o’clock sunsets until next April
they said — we burned the last of the plum tree,
watered the beds —
the geese cry to leave,
as do I.


Inspired by a post yesterday at the splendid blog, Moss and Fog.

About pinklightsabre

William Pearse publishes memoir, travel journals, poetry and prose, and lives in the Pacific Northwest.
This entry was posted in poetry and tagged , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

16 Responses to The last of the 8 o’clock sunsets

  1. ksbeth says:

    sounds like the changing of the seasons has inspired to you change something once again –

    Liked by 1 person

    • pinklightsabre says:

      It’s great, though a bit grim innit? The prospect of no 8 pm sunsets again here until April 16. I should mark that on my calendar and plan a party around it, though it will likely be raining then. Where’s my optimism?

      Liked by 1 person

  2. Lynn Love says:

    Well, isn’t this just gorgeous, Bill. Love the lines about being blown back to Scotland and the comforts of a cold season indoors, and those closed umbrella shrubs – just perfect. It all speaks of cold and keeping snug and humkering down until the nights open up again. It’s all drawing in here too – the spiders are growing fat, the leaves are just beginning to turn, though the bats are still flying, such a joy to watch them as the sun drops low in the sky. Time to air the winter woollies 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

  3. I feel it Bill. Every evening walk it’s a little darker. But cooler too! The hot breath of this past summer is still being exhaled on us down here in Lewis County. Hopefully only a couple more days. Scotland, or maybe Nova Scotia, sounds extremely refreshing right now. I feel too too far from Puget Sound. What’s the point of living in this state if not to be near that long cool drink of salt water!!
    This is such a lovely piece of writing Bill. Really enjoyable.

    Liked by 1 person

    • pinklightsabre says:

      Sweet Ilona! Thanks for sharing that Lewis County vignette, too. Our neighbors are in Scotland now (must have inspired me to think of it) but I think they got those midges out still. Better to go in November like we did! We got to spend a month there and I’ll always remember the color of those hillsides, scabrous and brown…but beautiful…more “gold brown” than just brown. Enjoy the walk tonight…nice breeze pullin’ in here, and I just popped a Sauv Blanc. Life is good. Bill

      Liked by 1 person

  4. walt walker says:

    Good to see you putting up more poetry again, it suits you. Can’t seem to shake the spiders, though, I see their engorging themselves now.

    Liked by 1 person

    • pinklightsabre says:

      You must be out of danger from Harvey that you can be online reading poems and meditating with Dick Hercules?

      Like

      • walt walker says:

        Yes, we’re in DFW, so the clouds and rain will sometimes make it up here but not the wrath of god stuff they get on the coast. My sister in law is stuck at the airport in Houston, though, was headed back to Tacoma when they shut it down.

        Like

      • pinklightsabre says:

        Ah, well good thoughts for you SIL and happy to hear for you and your family. Whew.

        Like

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