Dusk In My Backyard
The long black night
moves over my walls:
inside a candle is lighted
by one of my daughters.
Even from here I can see
the illuminated eyes, bright
face of the child before the flame.
It's nearly time to go in.
The wind is cooler now,
pecans drop, rattle down-
the tin roof of our house
rivers to platinum in the early moon.
Dogs bark & in the house, wine, laughter.
Keith Wilson
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