Voices on the Wind
Borders of Day and Night
by Lars Samson
Sundown erects a line, splitting Earth. In front,
Day. Behind, Night.
Black tides seep ahead where peaks
and other silhouettes stand taller. In waters
that swallow reflections.
Mountains lock shoulders, damming a sea of light
that recedes slower than can be seen. Course
It leans into line, fixed on the horizon. Not seeing
the opposite confluence has no border. Simply light
blending black to gray that dissipates
It canít see the dance of Day and Night: touching
fingertips and entwining bodies in early dawn. That Night
washes up its other shore buoying
a new Day.