Where There’s Still A Little Light

by Thomas Mitchell | Nov 1, 2017 | Poetry | 2

It’s late and everything settles
like smoke on Tenmile lake. The shadow
of a heron glides above the water’s surface,
softly, like someone rustling sheets. I wish
this last day of June would last another hour;
the thin moon already in the sky. As the golden light
slowly leaves, a flurry of crows crowns the oaks.
The cloudbank, shaped like a blacksmith’s anvil,
pulls to the West. In a little while I won’t be able to see
the steel blue dragonfly circling the reeds,
the distant mountains jagged
as a serrated knife.

Where There’s Still A Little Light by Thomas Mitchell

Photo used under CC.

About The Author

Thomas Mitchell

Thomas Mitchell studied writing at California State University, Sacramento where he received his MA in English, and worked with the poet, Dennis Schmitz. He earned an MFA in Creative Writing from the University of Montana, studying with Richard Hugo, Madeline DeFrees, and William Kittredge. His poems and essays have appeared in numerous journals and anthologies, including The New England Review, New Letters, Quarterly West, The New Orleans Review, California Quarterly, and Where We Are: The Montana Poet's Anthology. He taught middle school in Southern Oregon for many years, he lives there still with his wife, Linda.