Brief moments there, when planets held in sway
A sun, some stars, a rabbit on the lawn;
Lush leaves and seeds which flourished, then were gone
Leaving green, glowing scented scenes of day
To frame each moment worthy of this place
Where memory, like jewels kept in a box,
Or quick and furtive movements of a fox,
Seems fated to disintegrate in place.
For such an errant beauty cannot last
And dark delights will swallow it too soon.
Then thought intrudes on us, and we presume
A little twilight from the recent past
Means nothing—like a rabbit or the moon,
It can’t compare to chaos, wars and doom.
Sally Cook is a widely published poet and painter of Magic Realist paintings, particularly inspired by nature and its vagaries. A five-time nominee for a Pushcart award, in 2007 she was featured poet in The Raintown Review, and received several prizes and honorable mentions in the World Order of Narrative and Formalist Poet’s Contest. An interview and e-book, Measured by Song, are available on-line. Her chapbook, Making Music, is available through Amazon.
Painting by the poet.