Outside my window
The sun is drooping slowly towards the horizon
“Move along now”
A hush-hush voice urges
Lemon drops dot the skyline on top of
Pink puff pastry clouds
The sky is a palate on which the gods paint
Old-man hemlocks stretch their bony fingertips to the sky
Greet the sun in a
Wide embrace
The trees are the leaders of a marching band
Wind sweeps up their arms, dancing ever so quickly
“Move along now”
Hush-hush hurry
Soon the radiance will mellow to dusk
Grey skies are moving in, shoving aside my colors
Wave goodbye to the marching band, the dancers
The pastry clouds
“Move along now”
The darkness begs