she wore impatience
jeans, sandals, t-shirt
brush swiped hair
there’d been years
for logos, labels
three friends gone…
she still had patience
yet sought primary colors
she read books…poetry
in draughts…to inebriation…
paused…when honest people
wrestled with ideas
kept awake past midnight
to stay closing of the light
Photo Credit: botanizing-flanerie
8 thoughts on “toward midnight”
I REALLY appreciate/like this poem, especially the “primary colours / not pastels.”
As I sincerely appreciate your comment.
Reading this I feel I am standing before a painting…the metaphors are surprisingly graphic…known but not realized until the painting is right in front of me.
You open up the experience, Jana. Thank you, dear poet friend.
I am one who stays the close of the night —–Chagall
All good, Chagall. )
beautiful, I too burn the candle past midnight. Amazing poetry.
Must be the quiet…slower pace.