dusk is a long time coming

those days when the sun sinks so slow

behind the tables*

and

clouds borrow water-colour whorls

to lovelayer bloodstains

across the horizon

dusk is a long time coming

those days when my mind will not lie down

and welcome sleep

when

i must walk up the hill behind the house

to steal more sunlight

from the clock

dusk is a long time coming

but

in the end

light

f

      a

          d

               e

                    s

i sit

hearing batwings

play sandpaper with still air

the distant silver of the loch

holds hands with the moon

and

gleams a  silent harmony

occasionally

i see the headlights of a car

feeling its curious way

around a single-track road

towards me

and in this timeless argent night

dismissing years gone by

i smile

behind a shadow

and think it might be you

when the sun has burned bright

dusk is a long time coming

*Macleod's Tables are hills on the Isle of Skye.

. ©Vance Roberts (Floots)