another "dusk" poem.

Oh well, Perry-- very creative tonight, hm? You must have something due.

---

The rising pines
rest their furry limbs
against the wooden phone pole.

The star-leafed oaks
spread dark and gentle, over the power-lines
against the streaky sky.

The sidewalk a trail
with the deeper softness of well-packed dirt
and the asphalt a little damp and ready,
an empty streambed, waiting--

the crickets click everywhere

The woman, dwarfed, watering the grass
brightness arches from the nozzle
the birds chirp out of tune
the earth rolls
the sky is still and the air rests lightly

All-- is large tonight
and close.