slant of light

slant of light

late in the afternoon
my favorite slant of light
it tickles the firethorn
invites sunflowers to turn
shifts jasmine’s white to cream
dusts everything with gold—
so why do poems demand the night?

my earth suit wants to sleep
yet fingers claim the keys
silence awakens my genie
she swigged that slant of light—
her drink of choice—it kindled
inner fire and pleads for air
write it write it write it now

2022 ©Amrita Skye Blaine
I’m writing a poem a day. These are drafts—they may never turn into anything more or they might flower.

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