the treacle song
of bellbirds at dusk ‒
I await the stars

orange waves . . .
the taste of air
at sunset

autumn sunset
I take the rickety stairs
three at a time

illusory
in the soft twilight
scampering rabbits

long day's dusk ‒
in quietness now
the carousel horses

day's end
five kelpies cooling
in the horse trough

setting sun
the old stockman
coils his whip

nightfall in Nice
a pink doll beside
the body bag

sun set
skimming back to shore
hoiho

evening settles in
today's burdens
home to roost

twilight
the sun leaves its glow
under a cloud

black rose . . .
even before
the dusk

last light
haystacks edged
with golden lace

curve of daylight
into dark
your mouth along my spine

dusk darkens
quietly around an ash tree
the bat's first circle

the bamboo leaves
in shades of yellow
autumn twilight

worth repeating
the transit of an endangered bird
across the setting sun

Twilight breeze
silver discs of honesty
foretelling night

trembling twilight cold silence breathes her in

twilight
a sheepdog calls
his master home

mountain path
star by star
the sky deepens

daylight fading
shuffle of cold feet
at the bus stop

Last rays light
just the back
of the dragon-like cloud
coiling round Thamserku

changing hues of the window pane sunset sky

equatorial dusk . . .
the bleat of anxious mothers
calling their kids

bald head . . .
the sun setting
again

another sunset
that grunt you make
when you don't listen

pulling porcupine quills
from the old dog's rump ‒
canyon twilight

twilight across the alley quietly glowing

gathering dusk in a pail wild blueberries