Beneath the dim glow
Between night and day,
Before the storm,
The lioness retreated
To the creekside wood.
He turned from the reptilian
Alto-stratus in the high, blue east
To the storm-laden west
And blinked.
A flash of coral pink
On rock, tree, and meadow
That somehow
Missed the sky?
He whipped around in surprise;
High clouds catching fire
Over the east, somehow
Casting deeper shadow on the land,
And towering over the west:
A narrow arc of refracted daylight
Glowing in the final breath of darkness
Like an answer.
© 2013 Kaweah