Poem by James Lilley : The Blue Hour in Fevers of the Mind Press Presents the Poets of 2020

Dock, Lake, Twilight, Lagoon, Water
The Blue Hour

Just before sunrise, in the blue hour,
where the sky is deep blue, suffused with cerulean light
I head for the shore.
Meandering down through winding roads, shadows stretch long, yet to retreat,
with the moons ghost burning bright hanging low.
Crossing Dylan's park its deathly silent, no bird song or bush rustle.
Bare tree branches beckon, woods gently whisper, as I descend the cobbled hill, beside haunting Tudor houses with dead windows -
looming large on either side of the street.
Sneaking quietly to where the sky and sea meet, the wide sandy bay meets the dimness of an unbroken dawn.
Crashing sounds of waves, salty breeze,
accompany Abertawe strolls in the blue hour.
Where I walk to remember.

Wolfpack Contributor Bio: James Lilley

By davidlonan1

David writes poetry, short stories, and writings that'll make you think or laugh, provoking you to examine images in your mind. To submit poetry, photography, art, please send to feversofthemind@gmail.com. Twitter: @davidLOnan1 + @feversof Facebook: DavidLONan1

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