Evening

The frogs are clacking
In the bayou
As the light fades.

The sparrows are done
Puffing and scuffling
In the dust by the road,
Shuffling their feathers
Into a deeper gray.

The sun has set,
The air is smooth and warm.

Evening has lain down
Beside the land.
Her head rests on the west,
Drifting softly into night.