A Late Milking

 [Poetry], Sonnets, The Timid Leaper  Comments Off on A Late Milking
Aug 312011
The upper pasture gate creaked padlocked.
A wading lantern to show the latch
Flared where invisible things attach,
Carrying light snatched up for open use
To home a tricky key and save a curse.
To burn out opposing night and burn day back,
And give dark description where words must lack,
Light's concern was kept narrow as the lock.

At a click, light soon waded on to earthy dark,--
Swung wondering in a guideless hand
Familiar with the black of pasture lands;
Sudden cow or knoll indifferently stood stark.
I followed from below as I was, restless
To see how aimless light in darkness does.