The grace of evenings, in late summer, spilling songs and long slanting light.
My child signing love across the molten hues of Huron.
Lingering light through horses and youth at long shows.
The coming of deep-blue herons, ruffling feathers of stars,
stepping into the still pools of dusk.
The moon netted in branches like bright dreams.
Warm lamps welcoming us home from our journey's end.
Our Lord loving us all through the dark shimmering.