Dusk

Winter-dusk!

Supper is generally on the table around 5:30pm on the-farm

Tasty! And, filling! Satiating-hunger like an earned-reward.

In the short-day months cold with frosty-temps freezing

ponds and offering several-inches of snow or even the

occasionally-rare ice-storm Spectacular! The wild of

a-forest invites the intrepid-curious to-visit the wiles of-dark.

A winter-dusk stroll o’re field-hill and dale to-settle

Mamma’s pork-chop meal satisfies better than-dessert.

The afternoon sharp-wind lays-down as the fleeing-

sun leaves on a telltale hinted-glow on the western-horizon;

 soft as the purple-dusk, a comfort “whisper-wind”

caresses-softly away the labor-toils of a “Good”-day spent.

Night chases light away, winning the battle for-dark.

In the first-night, eyes adjust quickly to the tree-shadows;

in a blend of mid-night abyss and imagination,

the dark “lives”; and, lucky-I become part and parcel of

 a-magic sure and true as any-dream of Rainbows! Butterflies!

and Unicorns! A satiated-spirit” sees and becomes-one

with the dark-delights of restful-night.

I catch a fleeting-glimpse of a flickering “white-flag”

fleeing the human-interloper as a whitetail

springs away swallowed by his-cohort, the dark-night!

And, with that sacred-blessing “Luck!” - - - I-am… alive!

 

Amen!