No Sunrise

I wake well before dawn,
carry a white resin chair
out to the field road
through a constant dull roar
of frogs and crickets.

Then I sit and watch.

At first, all is black, except
solitary stars
revealed for a moment,
then swallowed whole.

The vague outline
of wooded horizon,
barn, silent sycamores
take form.

Above, thick gray bands
resolve,
stretch across heaven,
back in against
the usual West to East flow.

The sky brightens to overcast.
I carry the chair to the patio
then head inside

for a day of neither sunshine
nor rain,
just dull speculation.

Through the Night

Pushing Through
for A.R.

The sunset is beautiful.
I seem to have forgotten
there are such colors.

Bright pink sky
and gold edged clouds
darken to crimson and violet,
fade to dusk.

I sit
through the wheeling panoply
of stars,
the horned moon’s
thin light

until chill
gray light of dawn,
white fog
threading
among distant trees.