in a garden, slender with summer rose,
where the silvering petals
gathered whisky clouds and love,

the shadows smouldered
while the breezes built bridges of
leaves, in a darkening, near nocturnal world;

and i sat, marvelling at the pretty sunset,
at the shady boughs, at the gorgeous
sky in the fading light with its golds and blues

and i felt calm and settled, while the
sun grew smokey, burnt to ruin,
(in the soon ruined sky) dulling, nearly black.