This morning, this evening—all twilight—
the pinks, grays, amorphous twilights
merged by hers and hers, both bright
and newly minted, clouds of twilight
hovering in rooms after days of heat.
If it hums—the fridge, the fan—still twilight
falls earlier in increments. Here the height
of summer becomes a gauge. Age comes sleight
of hand, preoccupied by equinoctial light.
Two girls seven, their babbling gone: oh twilight.
JUDITH SKILLMAN’s new book is House of Burnt Offerings from Pleasure Boat Studio. The author of fifteen collections of poetry, her work has appeared in Tampa Review, Prairie Schooner, FIELD, The Iowa Review, and other journals. Judith became addicted to Ghazals after taking Carolyne Wright’s class at the Richard Hugo House in Seattle. The course was based on the textRavishing DisUnities (Agha Shahid Ali, editor, Wesleyan Press, 2000). Visit judithskillman.com.