In twilight’s grasp
the sun sinks low to rest
dark shadows stretch
across the quiet land
the sky a canvas
of slow drifting art
now gives way
to nights’ indigo caress
hues of rose and gold
bloom at dusks’ command
for mere seconds
earth and sky
are not apart
the moon
blooming silver
ascends in silent flight
its’ pale light
softening the edges
as if by hand
stars fill the velvet dark
but cannot replace
the warmth
of your absent heart
© Ann Bagnall
Annie's Poetry 