swift comes the evening

"The evening sings in a voice of amber, the dawn
is surely coming.” —Al Stewart

lonely the night;
my friends are all sleeping.
only my fright
nigh blends with my weeping.
one with the dust,
they, silently waiting,
gone where they must
—nay, violently hating

sickness and death,
i hang on the threshold,
quickness of breath
my clang for the fresh gold.
one little life,
then swift comes the evening;
gone is the strife,
when sift we true meaning

of man on man,
surviving together,
clan upon clan,
reviving the ether
that heals the soul,
the savage heart yielding,
that seals the whole,
the ravaged breast shielding.

when i was poor
and naked and hungry,
then was i sure
the wicked would throng me.
now i am blest,
e'er patience has fed me,
bowed to my rest,
where angels have led me.

© Copyright 2020 October 30
by Clyve A. Bowen♫