Wings and horns of stone
above a cornice:
a gray morning trudges
into a wet afternoon
which ambles into a cool
humid twilight.
The lights below are blurred
by rain, the stars shaky
at best.
A few figures stumble about
in the street as children
call to each other
voices echoing off of rain-slick walls.
Pale green fields in the distance
darken into the black-emerald
of evening before hazy
staggered hills.
The smell of wet stone struggles
with the scent of rotting leaves
damp bark.
From the eaves a Madonna scowls.
Above stained glass others
with porous but unreadable eyes
sit under a thick
lake of sky.

 

 

 

 


Taunja Thomson

TAUNJA THOMSON

Taunja Thomson’s poetry has most recently appeared in Crawl Space and The Light Ekphrastic. Two of her poems have been nominated for Pushcart Awards: “Seahorse and Moon” in 2005 and “I Walked Out in January” in 2016. She has co-authored a chapbook of ekphrastic poetry which is scheduled to be published in May of 2017 and has a writer’s page at https://www.facebook.com/TaunjaThomsonWriter. A worshiper of nature, her summers are filled with water gardening, and her winters are spent obsessively feeding the birds and other wildlife that appear in her one-acre slice of heaven, a field.