Buffalo Dusk

The last lush across the corn And green is like blue, Like the dark shift of a shadow, Under the great old sun With a charcoal haziness Of clouds in gloom; Cracks of dusk upon the rocks Where the deep water flows, beneath the hills. The wind has come, The summer is still, the water Resonates with grief when the sun slow Leads its vast families back into the dark.

• Carl Sandburg