The flavor of evening circled the island,
holding ancient rocks within faint
gray mists, as ominous shadows pressed
silently onto waters smooth face.
A timid quiet descended, pushing out
the undersurface of day in retreat.
The occasional random sounds from creatures
moving about, makes little impact to
the surroundings as night becomes full.
The island casually drifts into black, held captive
without regret until dawn.
Roger Singer 