The Pond

The day ends as sunset comes,

and we sit there

beside the frog pond

watching the shadowy reflections

of trees and gliding birds

divide the orange light

of the dying sun

like bright embers

beneath black logs in a fire.

Listening for sounds of the night to begin...

crickets chirping, frogs croaking...

distant dogs barking

the hum of passing traffic

on roads of tar and gravel,

birds fluttering

among the trees

vying for the best perch

to rest upon

before the deep blue curtain of night

closes in around us

coldly

with colored diamonds glistening

within its fabric above.

 

-C.S.

Done