Gold—
Gold is the world
before the sun falls and
plunges it in to blessed night—
when crickets sing
and fireflies wink back and forth with the stars.
It is a strange, soft gold that lies on the hills
and molds itself around the trees and their leaves
that whisper in the evening breeze
that feels on my skin the way the hills look
in their sunset gowns of rippling orange and flowing gold—
the same colors as the wispy clouds passing by on their way to some place far away.
They don’t even know where.
They just go with the wild free wind as we go with the flow.
So good-bye to you, Clouds, and good-bye to the gold of evening
And good night, Sun. . . .
We may part with some friends along the way but there are always new ones,
as darkness shows.
So, hello Fireflies and hello Stars and Crickets,
Hello Silver Moon and hello
MY friend…
NIGHT.