At Dusk Poem by Zoltan Galos

At dusk that colours my pallet
Wine red
Clouds like purple cotton plants
The thicket of dry branches
Like barbed wire spikes the fading
Blue skies
The orange of life darkens out
The tree trunks catch the night
With arms of a desperate lover
I think of you
Muse of non - deliberate abscence
In physical ways
In metamorphosis we'll meet
In tight embraces of gods and
Goddesses
Who did what we always wanted
To do
Like this early morning embrace
Where all will be just right
Tight and pressing out all blood
From our veins
To be fused into just one
Human being
One union like a Rodin original
Well - a ZG-original as creative
As the old master used to be.

Zoltan Zelan