Skip to main content
At dusk, in the dress of dust,
The day
Blends with the magic of melting sun,
A trivial Thursday becomes
A springboard for love,
Succumbs to astonishing ashes.
I devour each sundawn
I can attend.
At dawn, I learn light and life,
Then, I don’t
close the drapes
To observe
“Un peu de poussière” –
A bit of dust –
gleaming in the night dome.
The Lent arrived!