Dusk

The wind is blowing in my face,
But there’s no harm in that.
It’s searching for a resting place
Because the day’s gone flat.

The clouds are being moved along
Just like a drove of sheep,
And soon the shepherd’s even song
Shall lull them all to sleep.

And, one by one, the stars come out –
Orion and the Plough –
As if there could be any doubt
The night is falling now.

There’s something in this twilit mood
Which amplifies my solitude.

Photo by Keegan Houser on Unsplash

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