The sun is falling,
in flight from the blue haze
in the east

The heat is broken
and light has softened-
tender hues
suffuse the sky
and gild
the white house walls in gold

A careless breeze
ferries about
a fragrance of family
in food-
cornbread and chicken,
buttery cheesy noodles,
a savory gravy,
a cooling apple pie

Soon moisture
shall recline upon the lawns
and weigh the air
under the fading clouds

The hot noontime hour
is forgotten-
the minutes of
struggle and sweat
and swearing,
massive moments
of intemperate need
and unyielding want-
of anxious haste

The birds speak quietly now,
resting on limb and line,
awaiting the
consolation of the coming moon

Steady is the seeing sphere

There is no tomorrow
but simply the
casual climb
of the giant white orb
into the waiting night