Colors recede into the waters fall,
casting the depths into shadow.
Singed fingers of sunlight
echo across the last faint reflections
settling into the corners of the day.
Twilight fills in and pushes past the horizon
until at last, the gleam of a silvered corona
is seen in the western sky,
floating in deepest celestial blue-
the quiet of the slender crescent
as she gently cradles the old moon in her arms.
*** a revision of a previously posted poem.
thecourseofourseasons 
wow… you really made it come all the way in that last line.. the imagery of dusk both morose and sweet at the same time.
Very lovely. I envy you being able to watch the dusk fade into darkness over water and then, next morning, watch the light return. I could sit at the window and just watch that forever. Living within sight and sound of water is my soul’s longing.
Oh my goodness, this is spectacular–I LOVE that final line so much!
Ahh, the image in those last two lines is perfection!