Jill Alexander Essbaum

Jill Alexander Essbaum

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Civil Twilight

What’s left of the last light’s been locked out. Like a bell-booked wraith that’s blocked

from the chapel, it haunts each edge of this purlieu in exile, a plight that the sky won’t resign to.

And dusk’s hazel eye can’t be trusted. What’s near appears distant, while things remote are

fictive. Your kindness comes off as vindictive. And sunsets are always ill omens, for what isn’t illumed

is unknown. When mourning stars are evenings out, night arrives with a cataleptic halt. Baths,

then battle lines are drawn. I don my darkest shadow as the blue hour blackens, burns. And

beg you to return.

Photo Credit: Scott Larsen
Elline Lipkin

Elline Lipkin

Laura Cherry

Laura Cherry