The Golden Hour

About the Book

THE GOLDEN HOUR

This is the golden hour.
Windows let in light light.

The glass is on the table.
It has been there all day.
The glass is round, the table square.

Light hits glass,
Strikes water,
Hits glass again.
Colors play.

All is still.
Dust glows suspended in air,
Each speck an angel.
I would like to be an angel, too,
Someday.
Someday I will
I will diffuse.

About the Author

Emily Norcross lives alone with her mother and her partner Paula in Chapel Hill, North Carolina. She may be reached at e.norcross@icx.net or at www.americanpoetryalliance.com.