Streaks of the setting sun lay softly on the flaxen <br />fields of the cold calm evening in the Golden West. <br />Purple patches appear in the hilly horizon with the <br />wintery night air putting the summer growth to the test. <br /> <br />Tall trees standing silently still and their stark stems <br />and trunks holding tightly, securely, ready for the night. <br />Rich, red soil containing the warmth of the rays of the day's <br />filtered sunshine, of which is leaning low - almost out of sight. <br /> <br />The occasional bird wisps from tree to tree as though <br />running late to be home again with it's feathered mate. <br />Fat cattle slowy saunter along the habitual track back to <br />the shelter of an old shed, and pass through the usual gate. <br /> <br />Colours change and everything becomes lifeless and still, <br />and gradually turns into deeper shades of grey. <br />Can you believe that a few hours earlier in my part <br />of this contrasting country that we had a magnificent day? <br /> <br />Sleep and recovery with the hours of the night, and for <br />the morning sun to rise up from the east, <br />and stream it's strong rays across this part of the <br />land we love so much - the Golden West. <br /> <br />Colleen Wright.<br /><br />Colleen Wright<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/dusk-in-the-golden-west/
