I am thinking of light, and how,
after summer burns itself out at last,
and its sharp, hot blaze fades from thought,
light softens, drapes its brilliance in an airy golden veil, and
slips into hidden corners.
The good Earth tilts,
leans into winter,
and the long dark,
and the deep rest;
lingering, for only a breath,
in the angled autumn light.
©stephanie pepper, 2021
When in the soul such darkness loosed
uncovers what light hath hid;
what gaudy day hath swept aside
the tender night embraced.
Unveiled in dreams, what secrets pass,
unknown to lucid dawn?
Thus where but darkness doth prayer come,
the hoarse and truest cry?
It shivers on the fragile skin,
unbinds the heart at last–
and gathers up the lonely tears,
in garish daylight spilt.
©stephanie pepper, 2020