the eyelids of the horizon widened

in the embers of the flaming dusk

and I sat quite still.

 

The moving print of birds

wrote their goodbyes to the dying of the day.

A distant thread of water glimmered

as it showed off its nocturnal sheen.

 

The lungs of heaven all but closed

in their painless silence,

my eyes strained to the balance of spirit.

 

Then I saw the figure

moving slowly

weaving

as through the sight of a gun seeking focus

closer in the deepening sky.

Ever closer the figure came

lit by the embers of the dimming dusk.

 

Finally he came to a stop some yards ahead

jagged in the rays with a shirt of raspberry red.

He saw me and pointed to my right

at which I turned face

the crew

with their webbing of cameras, booms

microphones vehicles assistants.

Light had flooded out to shame the night.

 

"That long shot was good!

Let's go for the close up now......and.....rolling

up to speed and....."

 

Like a lance the command:  " and      action!"

The raspberry man burst like ripe fruit

into his simple message

a sermon of commercial offerings

that would erase all doubt

what life is really all about.