Gloaming

Last pictures:
our hero enters
the gloaming.

#NaPoWriMo, Day 23. (Cassini raw image, Sept. 14, 2017.)

Sway

Sometimes the tempo
is adagio,
and everything sways
like a dirge.
The kelp heaves
towards shore
on slow waves
then drains back out.
The world
clicks the beats
of a funeral march
for me
when I forget
the time.

#NaPoWriMo, Day 22.

Black on Gray

While Lunar Orbiter looped
our grayscale Moon,
Rothko was painting
his final paintings
all untitled
and stark
on that crescent Earth.

#NaPoWriMo, Day 21.

Glamorous

That night
alone on a bench
with a glass of champagne
looking up
I saw a trapeze artist
arms extended
holding the pose
so high above the ground.

#NaPoWriMo, Day 20.

Longing

We both ache,
the brushes and I.
I don’t know how long
they will hibernate
in their plastic bin,
when they will next
drink ink.
I wish
I could tell them.
We wait and watch
for each other’s
stirring.

#NaPoWriMo, Day 19

The Engine

The F-1 engine
in repose.
No residual heat,
no whiff of kerosene.
Nothing pumping
through the cooling tubes.
A silent bell.

#NaPoWriMo, Day 18.

Paint breaking through

I can hear the brush
scrape the unprimed canvas–
the paint breaking through.

#NaPoWriMo, Day 17. Franz Kline, “Four Square” (1956)