Sunday night is quiet. Sometimes in preparation for the week ahead. Sometimes in reflection of the weekend events. It has its own mood.
I would color it blue. Sunday night has the feel of voices in the distance. You cannot understand what is being said, but you know there is conversation. Twilight absorbs the light and saves it until next Sunday night.
trailing dusk the great blue heron skies
haiku first published in Presence #42
YOU are your father's daughter. And, you and Glenn are so much alike in many ways!
ReplyDeleteBrilliant!
ReplyDeleteThank you Grace. Coming from you - It's a true compliment.
ReplyDeleteDeb, I was thinking of him when I wrote it. The difference is that I accept it more poetically.
ReplyDelete