nightfall

It’s early twilight,
that gray-blue time of evening
when the neighborhood eases into
the quieter hours of our day.
Chili is simmering on the stove
and the table is set,
so I sit in my rocking chair
to witness the world beyond windows,
to watch the night fall.
“Fall” is a strange way to say it.
Night doesn’t really fall;
it slips in,
seeps through bare, laced branches,
slowly veils the hills.
Tonight the sky is cloud-covered,
a full sweep of blue-gray
gradually growing violet in the east
as if heaven’s light switch
is slowly dimming the day.
It’s a peaceful drift,
moment by moment
as the sky lets go of its dusky gray
and drapes itself in a deepening blue
inviting all who pause and watch
to enter its ease,
to breathe its comfort,
to settle into the serenity of evening
and experience the magic of
twilight blue turning into velvet dark,
whispering calm to a world
that will soon settle into sleep.
No, night has not fallen.
It has snuggled in.
-kh-