Low sky, sun drowned within an infinite horizon, stretched into death with a final breath of pink hue kissing night. Another life awaits, the sounds of crickets working their mating calls, and eyes search the dark for signs of light – of love – in those sparkling pin-pricks millions of years old. Traversing epochs of evolution, we glimpse pasts as present, suck in air and expel developed thought, rumination of its end and ours. Solar cycle spin, we cling to rock and sea, careful hopes for another day. Beauty caresses the cold embrace of night, chilled fingers across the hot neck of the land. Reflect and dream, of the pink, the orange, the forgotten blue, ever hopeful for a refreshed pallet and a second chance. In dark, light steals misery and unwinds kindness, golden laced memory flirting out of view but always in kissing distance. #irispad #low #sunset #river #newhampshire #nh #clouds #dusk #writer #writing #imageandwords #poem #poetry #literary_imagery (at Before the Dark)