Stark trees pose and point,

their silhouettes more bold with each

downward tug on the sun, and then

that moment between too light for night

and too dark for day, that moment

when everything stops striving,

if only for an instant, content to simply be

in-between, that moment  before the stars

start sneaking into position, and the light

that emboldened the branches

becomes a whispered glow, silencing

one form of beauty to make space

for the subtle song of stillness.

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