“As the day goes, dying”

The Birch tree and moon in our side yard tonight. She’s one of the reason’s I wanted to live here.

My friend and writer Jackie Thorne posted this poem she wrote on her blog today.   It warmed me inside when I read it.

As the day goes, dying, 
night sounds begin –
the wind rustles gently,
leaves and branches
shiver wildly, waking up;
lone birds call out
somewhere in the dusk;
insects start to hum,
and spring peeper sing,
a hymn to quiet evening,
while I remain so quiet,
I swear I can even hear 
the setting of the sun. 

 

 

6 thoughts on ““As the day goes, dying”

  1. Your tree looks as if t is reaching up to the moon . I can even a facial expression in the tree . In the eye of the beholder I guess.

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