Day's End

I discover, again, in season's
Change, the little worlds
Here as I walk and
Listen around
My evening house.

Night bird ending day
Says to bee
My time, please, hush the buzzing
and speaking of day's closing,
There isn't anything to rival
Pond's symphonic bullfrogs.

In these quiet, twilit rural fields,
At day's end a farmer mows
The patchy, grassy dirt
Around her garden,
Close to the yard.

And all that nonsense
In the wailing world out there
Can't touch me here,
I'm balanced on the safe edge
Of world's green growing,
All the warming sounds and songs

And on this rim
There is peace enough,
I find, to see what
Blooms.