Valley of the Sun

Whispering moments declare
the end of the day,
Soft breezes with the smell
of wet cedar and sage.
As the shadows begin their
evening stretch and yawn
as the sun sets in the west,
The mountains declare their freedom
from the radiating pulses of
the day.
Wisping clouds linger in the moment,
assimilating their lacy, bare bellies
into the evening.
The changes occur in subtlety.
The gathering of the desert’s
own thoughts before the night
strips away its light.