Sunset Poem by Steven Federle

The evening wind stirs
our high, green trees,
whispering down the westering sun,
as shadows scale our eastern fence.

The sun surrenders its May heat
to a cooling Suisun breeze,
while already looming
on the eastern horizon,
rising from the gentle green swell
of low delta hills,
the copper moon vaults
into the cobalt,
its ascendant mastery astonishing
even the wading, gazing egret,

as on the other side
of our slowly rolling planet,
the bleeding sun declines,
searching the sea for healing.

Thus, from conflict and transition,
come poise and redemption.