Dusk

I find the sky

stilted in New Haven,

boxed up by

numberless roofs to the left

and roofs to the right.

It becomes

an above only,

a jagged precise

frame

of blue at day to black at night.

Seldom appear
the purples, pinks, and oranges

of Day’s last lavish display,

the sun’s rays made gentle

by its fading away.

Here, I see

to the right, a settling,

and to the left,

an uproar—

sky painted aggressively with

in-between color,

the purples, pinks, and oranges

of light gone astray,

mixed with mountain-tops and lake sheens,

sunshine yellow decays.

Both above and beside

does this vast expanse lie,

my limitless, open

Oregonian sky.

EWV