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May 1989


it is evening

the almost end

of an other day

the sun is slowly pulling the shades

sweeping up

the last of its light from the sky

yet some does remain

hanging in the air

light blue and almost grey

but for the singing of a bird

or three

and the wind on the trees




far beyond me

the moon

radiant in twilight

floats upon the sky

far beyond our reach

but within our touch

the moon

pleasant mistress of nighttime waves

keeper of the lovers prayer



It is Evening
A poem by Peter Rhebergen

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Each New Day A Miracle
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