The evening light is soft and kind.
If the night comes suddenly,
if darkness falls as a crisis,
unexpected despite the long twilight,
we will lie down against the cold earth
and hold fast, sheltering in its vague
contours against the wind,
and hope for morning.

I believe the sun, godly and indifferent,
will rise again behind the ruined trees,
silent when the birds are fled
to a brighter land. Then we will stand
and keep moving west, steps quickening,
dislodged from Time and joining
the everlasting sundown.
The evening light is soft and kind.

J. Kyle Kimberlin
Creative Commons Licensed