Dusk does not linger at this time of year,
Not like July,
when a sunset walk takes me around the pastures and hay fields,
allows me to linger at the pond,
and listen to the bullfrogs,
and wonder when darkness will ever come,
so I may fall into bed, tired after soaking up so much sunshine.
Tonight I am in the wheat field, just minutes from home,
taking the dogs on their after-work walk,
and pondering work, chores, holidays, life.
When I look up, the dogs are silhouettes.
By the time I return home,
I'll be lucky to spot white-tipped tails.