The magic time between day and night,
An hour-or-so, not dark, not light,
Images, colors emerge and float,
A quiet apex of peace, rising
From dreams now fading, remote,
A pause before the inevitable
Transition, remorselessly gliding,
Up into the glaring unquiet day,
Where god-knows-what is hiding...
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Random Rhymes From An Expat Living A Long Way From Home
Image by Mark Harm Niemeyer
Far Out (By Philip Larkin)
Beyond the bright cartoons
Are darker spaces where
Small cloudy nests of stars
Seem to float on the air.
These have no proper names:
Men out alone at night
Never look up at them
For guidance or delight.
For such evasive dust
Can make so little clear:
Much less is known than not,
More far than near.
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