At the insistence of dusk,
stars spark along the ridge top-
torches of ancient suns
lighting the evening paths of fox and hare.
Old oak shadows
stretch, reaching for twilights embrace,
dissolving into the darkling night
as the trees take up a low chant, shaking
winter weariness from their spring fired blood.
Ridgetop to ridgetop,
the bonfires of spring awaken-
bright lamps of bloom ignite in the silver starlight,
illuminating the April wood.
from the shadowed western ridge,
fingers of vermillion and aubergine
reach into the sapphire twilight
day’s dying sun
longing to hold the golden moment
for a last glance
from the darkling sky
erupt in dusky melodies
and indigo night begins