Ripples of shadows crossed the field,
like racers to the finish. Birds of all sizes
cut corners above the willowy weeds.
Moths dared themselves into the air to
a line of trees. A thin dew spread evenly
over leaves and brush. The change from
day to dusk moved within the sky.
Small creatures scurried swiftly like thieves
on the run. The ground surrendered days
warmth. Night commanded darkness, like
a lion standing firm.
Roger Singer 