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  • By Rowland Hughes

Last Light

The last moment of sunshine

dribbles from the watering-can.

The moon, hunchback on a cloud,

gathers its borrowed light,

as the blackbird’s song is lost in

a net of stars.

The apple-tree, charcoal drawn

against an ocean sky,

disturbs the quiet of a warm wind.

Dusk unwinds the spider’s web,

a window light dips and rises

on a shadow wave of flowers.

Terracotta pots stacked in a black

lit corner, the climbing rose fades

to a child’s scribble on a dark wall.

Night rolls its carpet of unseeable

ground, removing boundaries

until confines are infinite,

yet the sky’s distance shrinks

to an arm’s length and a bat circles

the universe with tissue paper wings.

Rowland Hughes is a Welsh writer and poet. He was born, and lived until his late teens, in the Rhondda Valley, from where he still draws most of his inspiration. He worked as a Master Decorator and studied trades in the construction industry. He later became a Local Authority Assistant Surveyor. Due to ill health, he retired in 1997. In 1998, he joined a Cardiff University Creative Writing Group. He loves to observe people, places and nature, writing in bustling cafés and the confines of his writing shed.


Sep 01, 2022

Wonderful! Intensely visual. What a wonderful sequence of images. At first I thought it might be a translation of a French poet of the eighteen nineties.

Sep 02, 2022
Replying to

Thank you David.

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