The golden burn of dusk
   kisses my window panes and walls;
On table tops it rests,
   the moon and stars it calls.

Far above the horizon,
   the honey sun waves good-bye
With sighs of blues and purples,
   its glory's end is nigh.

The birds sing their last songs
   atop the birches' bough
And the sunset leave us thinking,
   "What do we really know?"
In another world it is rising,
   but right here it hides from view,
burying its face, so when morrow comes
   we can marvel its glory anew.

Watching the fireflies
in the woods, from our back porch,
enlightens each dusk

My Day is done
and all is calm;
the sun goes down
and the sky is long.

The breeze picks up
as night comes to play;
the branches a-rustle
for the leaves they display.

The woods they sparkle
'neath a darkening hue;
a veil is falling,
as if on cue.

Thus I sit so quiet
near a gnarled old tree;
thus the shadowed woods
are calling to me.

I'm at peace!
The first in a while;
for my Day is done
and now I can smile.

A long, revived gaze trough little, tiny diorama.

I don’t remember the last time I saw such a glowing sky, crimson and mesmerizing above the roofs.

It must have been aeons ago.

A quite pleasant and the painful cleft that is increasingly spreading in the mind…

It is a long forgotten, abandoned and worn feeling. The marvelous sense of penetrating into my heart like the tide.

If only I could merge with the ground and dirt,

this ground flooded with dusk and covered with long shadows.

If only I could disappear.

Into the rivers and winds.

the sun sets on a horde of trees,
a flock of birds flying in one direction
then another
one another
one
another.

the screams of the forest are silent
and the chattering of the day for now
has dulled down.

in the town people sit
on benches and outside bars
toasting the day just gone and
bringing in the evening on the back of a beer.

no rain has fallen
and none is falling now
but the earth still holds that dusty scent
an inexplicable petrichor
that strikes deep into the very core of your being
as you observe
the passing of the day.

another one has gone:
another day has fallen and you are left
with one fewer soldier in your army
on the march towards death.

there aren't too many things you can say
to the people who pass by and
greet you on their way home from work
so you just exchange pleasantries
and pretend that is enough
for now.

pretend that you have not just watched
the sun melt down below the horizon
and the clouds sharpen in its orange glow
as if a great cat had ripped its claws
across the sky.

you cannot communicate this
without sounding mad
and so you smile tightly -
grittilly -
down another whisky
and that is enough
for now.

Just a wind that blows
On a fair summer's day.
No rhyme or reason
To my lovely, restless way.

Gentle sky filled with blue
Got my head stuck in a cloud.
But when the sky loses her light
And the dusk turns into night
Is when I'll finally speak
Aloud.

And I'll wonder,
"When will it be
'Til the silence
Finally sets me free?"
And I'll wonder,
"When will it end -
The bittersweet memories
That only time can mend?"

'Cause time passed
Me by, instead.
Like the birds flying
Over my head.

Another day passed by.
Man, the air's sure getting warm,
So I'll wait by my window
For the oncoming storm.

That's when the clouds roll in -
A dusky grey that calms my soul.
And when the rain stars coming down
From the sky's cumulus crown
Is when I'll finally feel whole.

They say it's darkest before dawn,
    dusky gloom met its match in your shadow
          unreality swears by your delusions,
       compounded in fear of disclosure
              that light at the end of oblivion
                  took revolution's number nine train

Shadows sliding down,
Enshrouding the mountainside,
Heralding day's end