
The light brilliant above the treesThe air is gently cool and still
Each branch, each leaf before me motionlessThe light of this day quickens to its rest
Laced in brilliant strokes of crimson
This day bids its closeThe sound of crickets in blissful serenade
Feel I the caress of the coming of night Skyward I am bound
In the embrace of Presence
In this night crimson.
Rose Marie Raccioppi
Poet Laureate
Orangetown, New York