My front verandah is still warm, my garden is glowing,
summer rain trickles slowly, consistently,
gently patting the leaves
and cooling the earth.
The sun has just slipped down behind the ocean curve again
a quiet, stealthy exit
no flashy colours tonight.
I bathe in,
and breathe in,
the pink air of dusk.
Evening is darkening
and the noise of distant traffic fills every audible molecule.
People are going home, or going somewhere,
mostly they are going in circles,
mostly going nowhere.
Me…I sit on my verandah
listening to the soft, summer rain in the diminishing remnants of twilight,
my Self gently fading,
(was that prose, or have I just written my very first pooem?)