Sunset

It had rained that day,
And the whole sky was washed clean.
A few wisps of clouds hung in the air,
Residue or may be sponges
Attesting to its recent wash.
The sun was setting and cast its glorious shine across the earth.
Fading slowly,
Then dying,
In hopes of rebirth.
In the darkness the trees began their lives,
Dancing and swaying to the music of the night.
A chorus of crickets chirping in turn,
Sending calls and returning them,
All passing on the word.