This poem just tries to capture a moment in time.
A neighbourhood.
At dusk.
Things are getting ready
to happen
out of sight.
Stars and moths.
And rinds slanting around fruit.
But not yet.
One tree is black.
One window is yellow as butter.
A woman leans down to catch a child
who has run into her arms
this moment.
Stars rise.
Moths flutter.
Apples sweeten in the dark.
from In a Time of Violence, 1994
W.W. Norton & Company, Inc., New York, NY
W.W. Norton & Company, Inc., New York, NY