work, for the night is coming


Work for the Night is Coming
Jared Carter

On the road out of town past the old quarry
I watched a light rain darkening the ledges
blocked and carded by the drill’s bit

twenty years back. Within those stiff lines,
places half-stained with damp, the rock face
opened to a deeper grain – the probable drift

of the entire ridge outlined for a moment
by the rain’s discoloring. Then all turned dim –
grass holding to the seams, redbud scattered

across the cliff, dark pool of water
rimmed with broken stones, where rain, now
falling steadily, left no lasting patterns.