by Alexander Lazarus Wolff
I can see ochre in the sky—the streaks of a dissipating day.
Spring’s dusk is the color of rusted metal,
the hue bleeds through the branches of the scrub trees.
All day I have yearned for reprieve, for the touch of night —
a cessation from the sun’s scorch. And now, as time
melts away, and the soft luminescence of the moon’s sliver
a drop of silver in the night sky, I find my mind inclined
to probe this silence. Though it resigns with a thoughtful sigh…
This is the moment where the spirit shrinks from itself,
where mind and matter set out to seek each other.
The room, grown dark save for the lamp’s
orb of light, invites the investigations denied
by the daylight, that which we hide from ourselves.
This quietude is a chamber that resurrects the misspoken word
or the assignment poorly performed. Here, as the night lingers,
I open the book of my life, skimming the pages to find a resolution.
Alexander Lazarus Wolff is a student at the College of William & Mary. His work has been published or is forthcoming in The Best American Poetry website, The Citron Review, Black Fox Literary Magazine, South Florida Poetry Journal, Main Street Rag, Serotonin, and elsewhere. You can find him and more of his work on Facebook and Instagram, or his website: alexanderlazaruswolff.com