I look up at a vacant sky;
except for one small cloud
and the inkling of a crescent moon
it’s empty –
and then, there they are,
into the sunset.
as the sun drops
into the dark slot of night,
the second to last bird’s wings
forever cast in a bronze tinge.
Kim M. Russell, 2017
Image found on Pinterest
Brendan has reminded us that we are almost within sight of the end of our month-long journey in verse and today we are presented with this penultimate daily challenge. He says that myths tell us that the next-to-last station of a journey is often its richest, pregnant with meanings which often don’t reveal themselves until we have turned some corner—given up on a quest, let go a loved one, endured through, made it home.
Our challenge is to write a poem that describes the penultimate in some fashion.