“Fields of Gold” has been our song

for twenty years, so perhaps it is not surprising

that I like this low, long-fingered gilded light the best.

It smooths crows’ feet and the backs of my hands

if not into youth, than into a mellow peace with themselves.

The shadows that cut such sharp black lines at noon,

gentler now, reach for us like old friends, tousling the kids’ hair.

We fold our lists of undone tasks and turn inside, wake

the radio, lay the table, uncork the wine with a soft pop.

Light the lamps, ladle the soup, clasp hands.

It is enough.

It is enough.

joining, at least for today,

in these daily prompts for November,

found via The Habit of Being


4 thoughts on “Gloaming

  1. the habit of being

    i’d never considered it before but yes, the golden light is flattering like candle light – no wonder i love it so much 🙂


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