Early hours of September

[howard bruner]

On my roof, snuggled into the quiet blanket of pre-dawn, I am hosting a rowdy party. Revelers from places far away call across the sky, flying fast to beat the light that will bring them down to roost, to rest up, before the sunset resets the urge to move on. The velvet dome is what pulled me out of bed - a sparkling necklace in the east, Jupiter on high, Venus kissing the bank of yard trees and somewhere lower and perched in those trees, Mercury. The necklace climbs and a fine lace of noctilucent clouds brushes the sky. A bat flitflaps in, only seen because the night is leaving, sneaking away with the party in full swing, as usual. 

Shapes and the faint hint of color appear and slowly grow. I notice that Sirius (the dog star) has disappeared and Venus is dimming too fast. As the swing of earth moves these jewels, releases Mercury from the trees, a cloud bank crashes the party. The east velvet is getting swallowed by the bank and beyond it cold light claws up. I never see the elusive speedster. As the last planet light is subsumed, the migrants switch to their bedtime call, fall out of the sky, and neighborhood trees briefly provide a perfect soundtrack to such remarkable beauty. 

H

[V Makar]

What beautiful writing. With such prose, why bother reading novels?  Honestly, what a gorgeous narrative! 🩷

Thanks!

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[Anja Wenrick]

I completely agree!   Absolutely lovely.  Thank you, Howard. 

Anja

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