After Dark In The Smokies (Poem)

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After Dark In The Smokies (POEM)

Dark blues of night press hard into tonight’s midnight blue hues of the mountains.

Funny I think, remembering how midnight blue was always my favorite crayon color as a kid.

Now I know why.

The silouette of it all, a cut out for the ages.

Dark blues against darker blues still.

How about that?  Just like life pressed hard upon us all.

The night’s katydids sing in chorus,

Cutting through my day worn mind.

The mind too is happy we are past nighfall.

Truly life abounds here in these hills,

Long after the sun has settled in her slumber.

I am not sure I can go back to suburbia I think; as I watch and listen.

I can no longer go where these deep blues of night are non-existent.

Too many humans.  Too many street lights. I think.

Too much — on.

Not enough — off.

Have you ever stood in wide open wilderness – desert or water, mountains or prairie —

And looked up?

If you have, you know what I mean.

Deep blue sky a master’s canvas for a vast galaxy of stars.

We always waited for the falling ones, as kids.

Now, our kids dont even look up.

They are too mesmerized by another blue screen,

One that is all consuming…….held in their hand.

Our kids look down, unaware of the stars, the sky or the awareness tht one falls down within the arms of the other – stars falling through star light down to earth, like all things in life.

Oh, those were the most majestic of moments – stars bursting in splendor all while they fall into their life’s final moment – all while us children look on in awe.

This is the journey of life…..that star, that canvas, that illumination, that ending.

Do any of us really look up anymore?

Will my child ever be able to equate the beautiful deep blue of nighttime’s sky with her favorite crayon?  ………… Like our generation did?

I wonder, as the katydids lull me, pulling me back to childhood nights sleeping out under the stars.  The memories, these sounds — so intrinsic.

Dark blues of night press hard into midnight blue hues of these mountains.

Funny I think, remembering how midnight blue was always my favorite crayon as a kid.

I am glad I know why.

I just hope I am not the last generation to notice.

~ L. Davis, #thepoetfarmer

 

 

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