The Coming of Night
June 11, 1984
The sun is low and red. I saw it wave and I'm sure it said 'Good-night, I'm going to bed.' The sky is orange and pink, And at command The colors sink. Now the sun is gone. I wish I could join the crickets In singing their evening song. I see a tiny star Beside a great, huge moon, And then a thousand stars Burst out from the deep blue sky. I can hear them singing Their tinkling lullaby: 'Good-night. Sleep tight. Wake up bright In the morning light.' Now it is dark. It is night.