Evening Poem,August 11, 2016




How well early evening fits in late summer

As the day escapes, so does the season

The long sunlight on the mountains is gold now, not white

And the heat of these latter days bakes instead of broiling

In only days, some of the songbirds will gather and pepper the sky

As they start the motor for migration

And the breeze of twilight

Is the first breath of Autumn

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