Photo Credit: Google Images/www.last.fm
Two twenty-six
(a new moon night)
I stumble to the kitchen.
My flashlight plays
on unfamiliar surfaces,
creates images,
suggests invasion
by artifacts
unknown to me.
I fumble for the kettle.
Blue flames explode,
lick seductively.
Steeping chamomile
shares soothing
sleep-inducing scents
while I peek through
the blinds.
On the cul-de-sac
behind us
a street light spills
across the pavement.
Aside from that
the world lolls
in darkest stillness.
Alone, I sip my tea.
I sip solitude.
Thank you Claudia, at dVerse Meeting the Bar, for the prompt to write a poem in the manner of the Impressionistic Artists. Quick brush strokes, the play of light, and mood…move over Monet. I hope you will join us at the Poetry Pub and bring along your own masterpiece.
