White road bleaching light
straw dust stone and crickets
scent of pine still drifts the air
then sudden evening silence in the hall
imagined footfall on the farmhouse stair
vivid stars emerge with close of day
My house is sliding into night
mauve and orange fade to black
gone the spectral shimmer on the hill
gone the lizard from the stuccoed wall
going to my cold room still
your echo has not died away