contingencies of sight and soul

Riding in a car, at Dusk                                                                      










If you look carefully,
toward the brightest
yellow of sunset
high in a treeless sky,


or a few minutes later
when the pattern is lower
and closer to the man-made lake
where no trees are present,


or over beyond yonder hill
where trees and tall weeds
become silhouettes,
the sun itself willing
not to be seen or even thought of
until first morning light,


you can almost see God’s face,


followed by pink,
followed by blue,


followed by night so black
that hours later,
on the way home,
flashes of colored windows
from the camouflaged Belmont Abbey
pierce the dark I-85 like broken shards.


Tree, red,
tree, green,
tree, tree, tree, blue,
tree, orange,
tree, tree, purple:


Crayola colors glow like fallen stars
praying among the trees.










                      Helen Losse














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