Desert Evening Listening...A Poem

When the lucent evening sky

Is neither lustrous grey nor gold

But pale, sweet blend with faintest rose

In long, horizon-layered folds,

Quail say goodnight in liquid tones

Like drowsy children's voices sweet,

Slow-drifting gently into sleep.

Woodpeckers trill their bright demise,

A metal spade strikes hard on stone,

Late plunging into desert grit.

A dog barks in a chain-link fence,

While pilots sail on dragon wings

Through misty, yellow, crescent moon,

Hang-glide to blue earth's haven down.

The lights of Phoenix pulse yet fail

To dim the sunset's humble grace

More truly turned to denser gold

When nearer to its resting place

Where pale rose bleeds to ruby red

Before the long and purple night,

Before the resurrected day,

Before the resurrected light.

Copyright by Don Gray