Eventide

Elizabeth Helmich
Jun 16 · 1 min read
Photo by on

On a warm spring eve
the breeze
sits and waits
for sun-kissed plants
to breathe

a sigh of relief
and tuck
their tendrils in
before night’s call.

All flights
of the weary
are welcomed here.

Cares are shared
one by one
and carried collectively.

I watch the black dog
sulk off into the forest
long enough to see

a defiant swish
of lingering tail
and a glimmer
of eyes, all-knowing.

A mother squirrel
spies and frets at her young
who carry no wish

to choose between
work and play,
while the Schnauzer
dreams

most days
of a furry dinner
longer than his legs.

Bird song transitions
to smooth jazz and blues
of the night shift ahead.

Stillness vibrates
beneath earnest cricket legs
and cries from bed
for warm hugs

by girls chasing twilight,
their eyelids competing
with a cooing dove

and busy beings
through with tidying
offer their version
of love.

The greedy moon
zips up his grand cocoon,
but not before promising

to let us back out
after stars cross their
lullaby hearts,

tempos realign
and day restarts.

The Junction

The Junction is a digital crossroads devoted to stories, culture, and ideas. Our interests are legion.

Elizabeth Helmich

Written by

ramblings of the rabbit who fell down the hole and lived to tell the tale

The Junction

The Junction is a digital crossroads devoted to stories, culture, and ideas. Our interests are legion.