Candescent

              Candescent

 

(Thinking of  quiet, Autumn and Brodsky.)

Leaves of the witch hazel

linger golden on the branch

giving light

                       to the timbered dusk.

 

A tide of evening shadows

filters in -- and the hunter

                                 pauses

 

remembering  his house

in a distant hour by the sea.

 

His woman

sat near the window folding clothes,

her hair illuming the glass

without a lamp

                      or moon.

 

Quietly, the waves rolled in

with rain; and he sat quietly, too,

loving how she lit --

 

                        a small space

in a cool, high-ceilinged room.