I must admit that sometimes——
When Winter walking nods to me
from across the road,
his frigid breath streaming
from beneath his low hat,
When across the mountains
the alpine forests loom
in dark green waiting
for the falling night,
When all sounds have fled
but the crunch and solitude
of snow
——my favorite part of sunset
is the grey mist
that settles in its passing,
that crepuscular senesence
I once so despised.