It's You Poem by Lonnie Hicks

The Sun does not set each day
it is obscured;
its red finger-lights,
its rushing sun beams
retreat
blushed into embarrassment.

The green spot
at sunset
over water
is an exclamation point.

It's You.

I have seen the Firmament
draw its curtains closed;

I have seen Inner Night
recline on Silk-Covered Anticipations.

Its You.

Winds quiet.
Beasts are soothed,

all is twilight.

It's You.

Thunder soft,
gathering intensity
fueled
by nothing but a smile
it seems;
descends;

once again
magic time
comes real.

Each time spackled expection.
Each time cart-wheeling surprize
Each time unreal.

In the quiet rush
I hear foot-steps.

It's You

The room has no oxygen;
only night perfumes
and loving humors.

Under cover
gather
earth, sun and moon
because in glittering night
they all live here
in our room.

It's You.