As Summer Evenings slip into Night

The heat of the day dissipates 
To a heady mix of scent 
And enveloping blanket 
Of stillness 
Of creeping damp
As beads of dew form on the lawn;
An owl hoots somewhere in the valley
The answer not given
The air hangs close tickling the cheek;
Dry leaves break the silence
Falling to the ground
From the oak, eager to shed its load;
Occasional rustling is heard 
From the tall grasses at the fringe;
The bank stirs of a proximal 
World of other creatures who wake
To this space;
Even the fish
Rise to the surface 
Of the dark, black pool
To circle and chase in the chasm
Lit by the iridescence  of the moon,
The rings marbling the surface
Like oil
In fluidity
Orange stain drawn through black ink;
The first stars peeping through
The pastel glow 
Sequins above the northern ridge
As seamless the transition
Binds evening to night.