Train

a low-flying sun
hurtles through the dusk
trails a thin black line behind
a mile in its wake;
a high-flown moon
reflecting of the day
glows lamplight bright
three-quarters full

Crickets

under a crabapple-tinted sunset west
with the deep purple east awaiting
awaiting the sun's return
crickets chirrup 

Nightfall

now as the gloom's descending
a broad bright band bursts brashly
to close the day unvanquished
for Eos is just waiting
awaiting the kiss of Sol
to rouse her from her sleep