I step out into the clouded duskthe dark light pushes upagainst my skin

the steady contributionof frog songpours into the air,making the measuring cupof the nightoverflow.

the rock is coldbeneath me, remindsme to shiver.

the last lightswiftly fallsunderneath the treesand I capture itin angular lines on this paper.

the air growsdarkerand huddles nearer.stirs, exhales in onegust of breath, anticipatesthe night.

the last stripof gold is disappearingand here, on the outskirtsof the sanctuaryof the porch light,my shadow is hugeon the ground.slapped acrossmy page, the darkmimic of my pencilwaves.

now the sun remainsonly as a half-inch-wideribbon of dull orangebeyond the trees

and the frogs announcethe sun will settomorrow, too.

but I am hunchedhere on the edgeof the world,and the sun just felloff.