Saturday, July 14, 2007


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.

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