Evening in the South

Over the fields’ abandoned ways, Where the day sinks languid, gold and red, Soft shadows drift in the twilight haze, And the quiet calls the heart to bed.

The hills embrace the dusk in their fold, While cicadas lament their fading tune, As the stars like old lanterns, bright and bold, Assemble the night to banish the moon.

In the grapevine’s whisper a story unwinds, Of love and loss under warm southern skies, Do the fireflies dance for the hearts they find, As the world softly drifts into sleepy goodbyes.

• Robert Penn Warren