Debbie Siddle
Dusk
At dusk I see my image,
A ghost reflected in the window,
White-washed.
The farmhouse light flickers.
Invisible dogs howl,
A car grinds up the gravel.
Bats flit by in competition,
A cat mews on the wall,
Some shadow passes.
The lamplights glow and buzz,
Moths mass like grey stains.
Footsteps crunch in the distance.
The trees mute witnesses,
Sunset burns their shape black against the sky,
Bark glistening like wet stone.
Page(s) 27
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