Air floats tonight, enshrouds,

strands of heat, filaments of cool, woven.

Rose and lavender lace

into sky’s faded chambray.

Dusk walks a leisured pace

through cottonwoods on the hill,

exhales fine breath across the lawn.

Finches treble quick announcement.

I watch for the first star.

Sky’s hem silvers to cobalt

blue, gray silk draping above.

Young birch stretch

their supple limbs, sway

to twilight’s silent pulse.

Their sea of endless sand-dollar leaves

whispers, Who? in a language I feel

was once my own.

Sage’s hot fragrance curls as incense.

Night’s cathedral slowly lights

one candle

then another.

From somewhere, I hear wild grasses,

cowled under thick blue dark,

begin evensong.

© Copyright 2007 Susan M. Botich