Vespers


My friend and I sat listening
To the approaching sounds of evening:
Birds admonishing their mates and kin
To seek the safety of their forest homes,
Children hearing mothers' calls
Cried for one more turn on rope-hung swing.
Far off a coyote howled and waited
For acknowledgement that never came.
The weary sun began its slow descent
Behind the mountain that would shield it in its rest.
A last elongated ray, filtered by the mist,
Shed a scarlet mantle over all
And kissed the silent earth good night.

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