As the sun is going down,
only the scent of flowers
remains in the air,
like the smoke from the bonfire
that reaches the first stars of the night.
As the embers burn
in the fire,
the creatures of the evening
dance to
rhythm of the sinuous
flames .
Poem (C): Me
“Queen Guinevere’s Maying” (C): John Maler Collier
“Nymphs dancing to Pan’s flute” (C): Joseph Tomanek
