Twilight Hours
I sit behind the closed door
Of my screened in porch.
I look through tinted windows
With one eye.
I only see but inside out
And far between.
The corners of the empty
Twilight hours.
The whippoorwills sing songs
Of darkened skies.
The nuts fall on my roof
In hollowed tunes.
And in the distance I hear
The lonesome lullaby
From coyotes hidden near
Nowhere soon.
And please tell me
Where is it all
That fills the space
Between the twilight stars?
Where whippoorwills
Meet daffodils.
And inside’s outside’s door
To in-between.
-Janetti Marotta
Inquire:
How do you understand the phrase: And inside’s outside’s door to in-between?
Journal:
Is there a part of you that feels neither here nor there? If so, how is that? Can you
emerge into the light?
