In the summer of an evening
where the days seem longer bright,
and the evening cannot cool the heat of day;

the silky shadows dance among us
in the playground of the night,
through the twilight haze they seem to jump, and sway.

In the autumn of an evening
when the dusk is but a dot,
yet still the day is eaten by it's appetite;

half the shadows are running from
what the other one's just sought,
as night causes the shadows to vanish from our sight.

In the winter of an evening
with the shadows as dark as ink,
causing reality and fantasy to blur;

imagination plays a large part
even more than one would think,
you've entered twilight, through it's window, never knowing for sure!