The shadows arose from under the spreading trees <br />ran across the fields, crept up hedgerows with ease <br />and lengthened their stride to the ridge of the hill <br />meeting crimson in the sky as if it bled on the blueness <br />where it touched the hard and darkened frill <br />of a tree laced horizon lying, waiting, strangely still. <br /> <br />Orange tinted clouds sped past, holding hands it seemed <br />as they danced to the music of the setting sun's scene. <br />A finale to herald darkness creeping, light receding <br />leaving only blackness tinged with a silver mooness <br />mingled with the grey-green grass' seaness. <br /> <br />Then the creatures of the night arose, <br />each with two points so bright <br />shining, gleaming, moving, stealing <br />through the shifting shadows <br />of the all embracing night <br />and flashing in and out of sight: <br /> <br />The wind sped past grasping, feeling <br />all that lay within its path <br />filled with shrill sounds of night. <br />How the branches creaked and snapped <br />and how the rushes swayed <br />on the rippled silver water, grey <br />and strangely sliding shapes were made <br />upon that dark and lonely unlit path.<br /><br />David Taylor<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/walking-into-the-night/
