Tag Archives: sunsets


this day there was a choir


as we approached the beach

for real

in a circle

entoning celestial voices against

moist slurps percussively



there was a rock

to shelter against

in the brilliant light

of cadenced winter


there was your face

reflecting the wind

the crows paid no attention

as they chortled their way across tideline buffets


manicured dogs careen along this margin

we disregard the others


in a dialogue that dances into


until we enter the present

capturing moments

with precision and obliqueness


entering into a realm where colours shift

with each tilt of the head

where land slips beneath the waves

and rocks turn into sand

beneath our feet


as dusk purples distant mountains

gulls cry

I look at you


that sometimes sunsets have supporting roles



David Trudel  ©  2014



Leave a comment

Filed under Poetry


A rim of banked clouds fringe the horizon

Where the sun lowers itself into the west

I look out across lichened rocks and a curtain of trees

A river of farms rolls through the valley

Before hills that belly up in the distance

Becoming not quite mountains brooding darkly, distantly

There are no people here

No shouts or interruptions

Just myself and my own turbulence

Which settles into anxious thoughts

That I try to rationalize and quell as best I can

I breathe in deeply and exhale

Over and over

Until tranquility becomes my steady state

Interrupted only by birdcalls

And the rustle of the wind in the leaves



David Trudel   ©  2013



Leave a comment

Filed under Poetry