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.
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.
golden evening glow-
stretches from the western ridge-
illuminating the edges of twilight
early evening sun-
parts the shadows of the old oaks –
stretching to meet the waters edge
deep evergreen day –
gives way to plummy dusk-
sweet, luscious summer night
clouds smudge the twilight-
layers of violet, gray and ash-
staining the night sky