into the eve

 It's been a long time since I've posted anything, but here it goes. 

I'm writing again and posting more often than I used to over at Mastodon: @StevePeterson@mstdn.social. This poem comes from a prompt over on that site: eve. 

It was supposed to be about Christmas eve, I think, but I'm not really one to celebrate so I took it in another direction. Since I have a real interest in liminal spaces, eve is a perfect place to explore.

into the eve
– steve peterson

the sunlight shone all day,
streamed through the frigid air outside
past the windows to

warm the couch

and the dog on the couch
and me on the couch near the dog.

and then we, the dog and I, headed out
into the after-sundown but before-night-falls – 
isn’t it interesting how we say “falls”
as if gravity, a natural force, a bend
of space-time pulls darkness down upon us? – 
we headed out 
into the fading eve.

i love this moment.

the center has not 
shifted enough, really, from one 
to the other to mourn 
the fading color,
for the textures, now, are brilliant enough
in their subtle dimness
to cause us, even the dog,
to stand quietly

and listen

and wait 

and feel the pull
of the next moment
into the next moment.