A glow is in the stained-glass sky,
The gleam of dusk caught in one's eye;
The air grows cool in evening's light
As crickets sing for twilight.
The purple in the west sky grows,
The Earth in its fixed spinning slows;
The stars switch on in flashes bright
As nightbirds sing for twilight.
The light dies slowly in the west,
As great and small beast fall to rest;
The summer day fades into night
As wolves sing songs for twilight.
--1998
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