Last night at twilight (one of my favorite times), I was doing a walk about and thinking of transitions. As the sun set, I saw this pink glow in the east. Something, for whatever reason I hadn’t “seen” before. All I could think of at that point was a term that had been rolling around in my head for at least a couple of weeks—vermillion ridge. I thought—it’s the vermillion ridge of the cosmos kissing the earth. The vermillion ridge (or border) is that little crease on your upper lip. That last touch point of a kiss. And, it turns out that that pink glow is called the “Belt of Venus,” and it happens in the east at sunset and the west at sunrise. For about 15 minutes. I combined these two ideas into the text below.
Vermillion Ridge
Last brush
of intimacy
between loved and lover.
Soft connection,
at bright-eyed first glassy glance,
deep gaze of last touch.
Human recreation of entirety
in a kiss.
Two into one
these precious moments,
vermillion ridge of the cosmos,
pink Belt of Venus.
Bidding the day,
the earth,
goodbye,
in eastern twilight.
Welcoming the day,
the earth,
hello,
in western dayspring.
Temporary but everlasting
embrace of us all,
of everything,
by the universe
every morning and evening.
Feel it on your lips.
—Keith Knapp
sunset image by Laura Weber