Dusk

The river ripples as it flows,
Reflecting clouds on high.
A duck dives down and I suppose
When he comes up, he'll fly.

The sky turns pink; the buoy light
Starts flashing neon green.
The day surrenders to the night,
A sight that's seldom seen.

How lovely just to sit and think
As Nature steals the show
And carries me right to the brink
Of where I need to go.