A cool breeze touched softly
upon my face. Much earlier,
the sun had tumbled out-of-sight
leaving pink-red clouds
which promised the silhouetted
trees a warmer tomorrow—
a day without wind.
Quietness settled comfortably
about the mountains.
Newly awakened flowers
perfumed the evening
with their presence.
Their colors, tomorrow,
in the sunlight
would become
the artist’s pastel paints.
I chose to be content
with this fair evening
in April, if only
the moment would
last long enough
for me to savor
its sublimity.
© 2014 Freeda Baker Nichols
Freeda Baker Nichols 
Very peaceful scene in this poem, restful and beautiful to behold.
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Thank you for your comment, Phyllis. I appreciate that you follow my blog.
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At sunset, you have to be quick, I agree, Freeda. Very nice, these spring evenings always seem so soft, don’t they?
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Yes, they do. Nice, though.
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Ah yes, the promise of spring. Still very much just a promise here, though I have been loving your greenery on Facebook!
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The moment never is long enough is it?
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No, it isn’t! Happy springtime, Kayla!
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