In the Calm of Twilight

In the calm of the approaching dark,

when the sun has settled

beneath the horizon

and the moon begins to pale

and loose its luster, the trees are still.

And in the blue-black haze of twilight,

when the crickets have stopped

their chirping and the birds

have yet to begin their morning calls,

the world is silent.

But soon, as the horizons meld

into purples and blues,

the trees will begin to sway

and the morning birds,

who were silent only moments ago,

will take up the song of the crickets,

high pitched whirls and chirps

that fold in on themselves

and explode in a crescendo

of twilight chatter.