Pieced together in cobalt and lilac,
squares of crazy quilted sky fill in scraps of the day,
stitched with sharp needles of stars and comet tails,
held in place by old oaks outstretched arms,
reaching up until the twilight is pinned,
hemmed and skirted by dusk and sweet dreams.
Receding day spills across the western ridge
to get swept into the corners of night.

(revision)