Marissa Smith
In the West the sky blushes its warm hue
as the world eases into its familiar hum
of night. Its comforting song eases its way
from its depths as creatures of the night
emerge. Crickets chirp from the underbrush
as the frogs serenade from afar. The organic
melody of life and longing fills the air. A simple
yet intimate harmony. The woods croon
to the gentle touch of the summer breeze
as do the blades of grass. Cosmic light
freckles the heavens as twilight looms.
The soft flutter of moths is heard. They
dance about the straggling light as the
brown bats clumsily feast. The scent
of dusk drifts out. Smoky timber, the spice
of crisps leaves, the earthy musk. Just stop
and inhale. The wail of an owl bounces off
the trees and all falls silent. All life stops
and stillness sets in. The apex predator
scans the scene. Its silhouette fades into
the lunar glow of night.
Clamor 