Twilight and streetlights

Last night I strolled out into the twilight,
My humble hound dog tethered to my wrist,
Going about our business at the end of the day,
And the awakening streetlights
On my neighborhood street
Were flaming orbs burning against the shadows
Cast by the trees against the horizon.

And the Western sky, as its crown,
Wore a blue of royal color,
Not the deep, deep purple
Of midnight's trembling,
When stars are mere stitches
On the velvet blackness,
But rather a fair, honest blue
Infused with the dying light of the day,
Still wearing for its raiments the last touch of sunlight
Proclaiming the night's advent with a softness and wonder,
Promising a coming rest as an end to our labors
And offering hope of the promise of the coming day.