after the sun has skipped through the sky
and sat upon the horizon--
but before the shadows have disappeared--
when the air is still and the
grass is calm.
Noises are dulled to a bare hush
and motion is minimal.
It is in the evening when
the echo of life reverberates
faintly,
like a soul lost in its travels,
whispering its memories
in hope that those
memories
will continue to dance across other minds
so that soul may move through its
journey,
with no worries of leaving the world
to only be forgotten.
It is in the evening
that the day creates its life.
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