The sun is setting
A robin stands guard on the lawn
Pear trees look hand dipped in a snowstorm, so covered in white flowers
A mockingbird hunts insects, bobbing and hopping, springing across the grass
a parody of itself
Floodlight turns into isolated rays as the sun slides behind trees, houses
Church bells parade a song
the pitch cheery, the tune melancholy
the hours toll in slow motion, deliberately. Seven.
the tone lingers
A mountain in the distance
Colors of the lawn and the robin begin to meld together
appear identical
A chill crystalizes in the air