Poem: Dusk

Dusk

Come.
Sit.
Rest.

Listen to the wind
as it blows gently
down the mountain
and rustles the leaves
in a lullaby.

Close your eyes
and breathe
the sweet fragrance
that has waited here
for you all this time,

waiting for you
to come,
and sit,
and rest.

==============

The picture was taken in a friend's garden near Sandgate, Vermont. You can click on it for a larger version.

Tom