Poetry – Dusk I Love

dusk I love who know the morning’s light
the night’s darkness, the black and white
of yes and no and all false and true

I have lived with definite so long
with wrong and right, with weak and strong
with how much undefined dusk by you

for I have seen the between hours
when towers grew soft as flowers
and cold stones were stemmed in warmest hue

and I have watched a kind gentle grace
take place behind the coarser face
unloose the many masks old and new

I too felt the purple air’s dissent
from meant purpose and clear intent
nothing certain but a changing view

then let me have time’s dusk perspective
to give the life men think they live
an outer shape and an inner clue

— Elizabeth Bartlett

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