Evening Hours

Don’t look back

As shadows creep from bushes,

Stretch, coalesce,

To form that final, impenetrable dark.

Watch;

The afterglow is burning

 Vermillion, gold, ice-green.

Listen;

The thrush still sings amid the cherry blossom.

Wait;

When the blue midnight is alight with stars,

When moonlight silvers a summer sea,

Then

Rest in peace.

  

© Gill Dunstan

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