The Theatre of the Humble

The countryside is as the Bible says…
evening sinks down among the hills to die;
a final flash of sunlight threads through high
towers, aligning fairy lattices.
 
A muted fog of wild cacophony
wells up, deep-throated, limitless, obscure;
night smiles upon the hamlet, tenderly,
like honest death on one whose heart is pure.
 
Across the great, green, olive, blue expanse,
the sheepfolds cloy to patches in the haze;
a hundred star-points flaunt their brilliance
 
in sweetbriar silence that a cricket frays…
The distant mill and moon in dalliance
recall to mind the old, romantic days.