Evening Walk

He likes to run and read the trees
for proof of tales he learned from the breeze

I like to breathe the still evening air
And see color bursts in the atmosphere

He leads us down this trail and that
scouring the ground to see what is what
probing around for passerby news
gathering from grass clandestine clues

I faithfully follow after
Playing my part in the slowing hour
Feeling deep green gently fade to gray
Witnessing the world slip off her day

As the last few birds sing to sleep
the light in which dark begins to seep
my friend and I stroll the roads alone
out in day and at night, coming home.