When evening falls
I come to this place.
I like the way the colors of night
gather to say goodbye
to the colors of day.
The birds claim their beds
with songs of belonging,
and the rustling brush whispers
as the chipmunks find their dens.
The evening stars
peer through the forest canopy,
bright and clear.
A bright moon pokes its shiny face
over a distant mountain like a child
burrowing from under the covers
to favor me with a smile.
And somewhere nearby
is the sound of running water
I’ve never tried to find.
I name it
Evening Falls,
and take the pleasant path
toward home.
Beyond Panic 