As shadows begin to engulf,
The hues that come from a well lit day.
From the multicolored palette,
Pastels turn to gray.
Shadows are forming ,
It's near the end of day.
But still,
In the eve's half light,
I spy the glimmering ,
A floret of white.
The first to catch the new mornings rays,
And the last to show through the darkening haze.
And so it cycles from light to dark.
The familar becomes unknown,
And place's of refuge,
Are now a gambit to run.
The darkness seems to lessen the gap,
That the dawn had once split wide.
But all's the same
'Cept the loss of light.
And maybe just a tiny fright
From the circuition,
This will pass.
To convert  the obscurity to comprehension.
And so reveal,
It's all a trick of the mind's eye.