As Tired Men Lay Down Their Tools and Head Home to Tired Wives.

Creation is anxious for a much needed nightfall.
Prepared and thankful to relax its tired bones
It puts aside work unfinished from the hot July day
And readies itself for an evening of refreshing darkness and rest.

The blazing rays of day have become less oppressive.
In anticipation of the arriving evening they shroud the
Horizon beneath a glory of flame and crimson wings
Preparing the way for the impending nightfall.

The sun sinks slowly, keeping pace with the five-year-old
Dragging his feet toward tired wooden stairs,
Not agreeing that it’s time for bed as adults stay up to
Talk and drink ice water on a cool stone porch.


Silently slipping away as all disappear into soft rest,

Leaving the waking world.