We sit and watch the waning sunlight

Sift through fog like golden sand through water

While crickets chime the hour

Softly rolling hills of grey and green

As if God could smooth the blanket of the earth

A solitary hawk marks our presence

Circling his greeting

Sharing the heaven that is earth in twilight

Words by J. B. Everett

Photograph by Eamonn O’Brien-Strain © 2005 Creative Commons