at dusk

the new moon
brings a kind of
new energy
the summer solstice
a time for turning
inward moving
into darkness
and shorter
darker days
she says

the past five years:
like a holding pattern
flying low, circling
but never landing
a kind of limbo
for them which
has kept them going
sustained them

yesterday: a breakthrough
a yellow truck he saw
a yellow telephone on TV
the music helping her
through the long day

watering the garden
watching tomatoes turn
green then yellow then red
the tomatoey smell
lifting from those fragrant leaves
soaking the dark soil
warmed in the long day
cooled in the evening
fading with the purple dusk
blending with the sounds
of happy, feeding birds