The tangerine sun died gallantly

succumbing amid coral pink and turquoise,

then disappearing into slate blue oblivion.

Slowly the sky became black sequinned velvet,

and a pale moon crept timidly forth

outlining all with a silvertipped pen.

In the warm jasmine-scented dusk

the long sharp grass-stems rustled softly

under the deepest tree-shadow.

Night birds call over the dark creek,

all is quiet and waiting....................