The day drifts
deeper into the almost night the last hints
of light stretching their stay the cusp of the final glimmer
before twilight where there is the simple
slowing of my thoughts
pace, breath, yes
this is a stolen moment where my cup fills readily
as I sit on the weathered moss widened sidewalk
and the world turns steadily
my place is stationary my heart is clear
and as I observe the day folding so quietly
transitioning with such ease I am reminded how incredibly beautiful it is to think
these elements know without a doubt
the sun rises and the night embraces
each and everyday
The Shady Tree 
I felt my breathing slow as I read your poem…
That is a lovely comment, Miriam. Thank you!