Like water, night cascades
washing daylight away.
My window is a canvas—
a sunset by Monet.

Caked viridian hills
embrace the crimson sky
as brush-worked willows reflect
in the river each sigh.

Slack shadows tar the land
paving on what’s in sight—
in swirls of purple and blue
buds the burgeoning night.

The prismatic twilight
displayed one hour ago,
displaced by Ursa Major
conceives a dark Van Gogh.

♦ Published in the Summer 2007 issue of the Mississippi Crow Magazine.