Evening Skyfleeting, yet
Some would say a common view,
The sunset flowering toward the west
Chased by darkness in descent,
One final trial of will.
In a fever of ribboned hues,
The ballet of light begins.
By some skilled hand.
Heads of gold, with tails of smoke,
As if giant meteors swooshed,
Leaving bold marks across the sky,
In constant contrast to the sensible
The wan of daylight and pale darkness merge,
Forming transparent shades of gray and mauve.
The meadow lark sings from atop his tree,
Trimmed in the last rays of golden sun.
The sighing wind breathes good eve
To the blossoms closing tight for sleep.
Galaxies of timeless stars
Shine in defiance of the night.
The moon illumes the evening
With wisdom, transcending time
And permanence of transition
In a work to nourish all mankind.