The East coast Dublin sky now dims, <br /> and greys the earlier blue, <br />the day is calmed and gone. <br />The Virginia creeper, russet, <br />changes the garden hue, <br />and curls its creeping colored leaves <br />around the fence and gate. <br /> <br />The moon takes charge, high above the steeple. <br />Its light, through the rain dropped leaf tips, <br />makes of the Magnolia a Christmas tree, <br />glistening like a pearl lit necklace, <br />of sparkling light, in the garden, <br />evening light to night light lit. <br /> <br />The urban fox prepares his beat, <br />to stroll and search, a night watch. <br />The cat gone homeward to its basket, <br />the dog within, stretches by the fire, <br />as wisps of smoke from chimney <br />send the evening country scent as incense prayer. <br /> <br />The garden, in the nightlight, hides its cast, <br />as if a curtained stage awaiting, <br />now shadows, that wait upon the light, <br />whose brightness comes with dawn.<br /><br />Bernard Kennedy<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/early-autumn-evening/
