At Twilight, Waiting.

The bare fields
blush red
beneath twilight's veil
and wait for the dark arms
of night
to squeeze out their emptiness
and fill them with the
ink black echo of frogs.

When columns of moonlight
will penetrate
the ancient eucalypts
connecting one star freckled face
with one bearded by dry grass.

Now,
earth and sky,
holding each other at arms length
are dancing in the darkness.