TWILIGHT'S SLEEVES

They are so exquisitely well fitting and soothing
as they wrap around the aching heart
at the end of a challenging day
whether it was good or bad
where we long for the shear bleeding
of exhausted emotions
while welcoming nature's hint
about the arrival of eve's shadowy mask.

For those last ebbing moments
when the daystar finally dies
behind the horizon's curtain
our essence smolders with the embers of seconds
still burning like vivid embryos
from the mind's more fertile offspring.

One final sigh of acceptance
before welcoming what the garment nocturnal
drapes around our shoulders
and sunset's looming shroud is shred,
but its phantom memories still haunt
with a whisper of deepest begging
that tomorrow will bring
a cornucopia in chortle echoes for the soul
to be celebrated with a content smile
when again we don
twilight's sleeves.