Delights

The sun has set.
Behind mountains green and black slopes crisped with silver snow.
Once mighty now the blue bows down,
dies,
decays.
From its bones the gloaming glows bruised and bloody hued.

It’s a miracle, but they don’t notice.

Wrapped ’round a fire built high for warmth.
Smokey musk stings eyes alight with flames while
laughter rides the wind and winds through pines the
hush of leaves the
creak of
trees.
Friends trade barbs and fingers touch like houses coves like quiet
rooms like
caves in
storms.

Soon the dark seeps in.
The fire withers to a chalky embered husk eyes
droop.
one by one they zip themselves into their tiny dens.
lovers curled in warm cocoons.
drifting off within each other’s scent.
outside the night has raised its flag.
and for a little while now they have won.
the world may groan with loneliness.
as ahead the ways unweave.
but there inside that sacred space.
this little tribe has found each other.

This, too, is a miracle.