Darkness rolls down from the slopes,
Slowly seeping into the valleys
Robbing the day
Away from its stronghold.
As the night ebbs in
It seeps into corners and crevices
Taking away identity of all that is known.
The light retreats as if after a battle
Losing its strength to the mighty
Darkness that marches towards it
Willingly throwing down its arms
Vulnerability sweeps the land,
Strange sounds not heard during day
Begin to emanate in the darkness.
Wild animals hidden from the light
Emerge into its deep, lush cover.
The mountains lay hidden in black
With all of their giant stature gone
Their power and might lost in submission
To the blackness that holds them
Captive in its mystery.
Fragility and pathos
Encircle the light as darkness
A struggle of presence over anonymity
Lies in the darkness that seeps
Down through the mighty slopes
Of infinite stature.
This poem was inspired by this evenings sunset as I️ contemplated the darkness edging into the light in Franconia, NH. Where I️ stay is only a stone’s throw away from Robert Frosts homestead. I️ have been coming to this inn for close to fifteen years, sometimes by myself, sometimes not. I️ first came when I️ was still married to Dennis. Sometimes multiple times of year. I️ have become like family here and I️ was saddened to hear of the innkeeper’s husband diagnosis of cancer. I️ felt that pain as the darkness overtook me.