Evening

The gloaming
lies on the isthmus
of being and becoming.
~*~
 
Mingling with
the inky dark of night
the evening ends
in a slick dilemma.
~*~
 
It comperes
a train-station show of
meeting and departing.
~*~
 
As the flames cool,
the embers smoulder
before turning to ashes.
~*~
 
Hiding themselves
in the bushes
cicadas cry, bemoan
incessantly the irretrievable
loss of the day.
~*~
 
The end of the day is
calm and composed.
Accustomed to
the light and the dark,
The twilight
sits in meditation.
Soon it is lost
in a trance.

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