A cedar against a pink-lavender sky,
In the space between the neighboring oaks,
The silhouetted bird flies by,
The crickets sing an evening song,
A lowly cow lows, the day is closed
While along the horizon
The pink fades and goes
Sights and sounds the heart and mind
Senses but lets them slip.
A day is closing as others closed,
Slowly slips beyond our grip,
The pink has departed
Now the trees stand dark and still
Black trees on a gray-blue sky,
As tree frogs “che che” at will.
– eab, Oct ‘75
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