Poetry for Strangers: Crepuscular

the barmaid was mistaken for a saint
her halo was crepuscular and faint

the spies inspected the muddy footprints
war on sweden suddenly made good sense

the baker thought of his grandmother when he poured gin
she had nurtured juniper bushes in her garden

palm trees casted shadows on the church doors
high above circled the hungry condors

the arson expert shuddered as she spoke
the jury heard how the flames first awoke

alligators waited in the magnolia trees
for the golfers to shank one off the fairway greens

while chopping carrots the playwright was struck
by the poetry of banal good luck

what wonders we live caught in candlelight
flickering is our brief time but so bright

 

For more, visit Poetry for Strangers: Crepuscular

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