|The Starry Night by Vincent van Gogh (1889)|
At dawn we'll move potted plants into shade
lest they incinerate in direct sun.
We'll stretch cheesecloth over the rows of
peppers, string beans, tomatoes and peas.
We'll pray over root vegetables and weave
pine branches into roofs for hills of squash.
We'll let the grass fall victim to the heat,
but decide to save our skin for awhile.
By day we'll sleep. To run, play baseball, golf,
commute—all these demand the dark of night.
We'll pump scarce water with day’s solar power,
but only sunbathe in the night’s moonlight.
Some of us write ironic poetry;
some try mysticism; some curse this fate.
The Hymn “Good Morning Starshine” will become
our most popular twilight waking song.
For Sumana's Prompt
My blog poems are rough drafts.
Please respect my copyright.
© 2018 Susan L. Chast