The Purple Hour
by Ed Keenan, Author of Nature & the Southwest

Toward evening
When a butterfly lands on soft petals
With the patter of silken slippers
And seeing the sterile sky of summer
Near the seepage of a thirsty stream
A katydid sings
And her song melds into the soul
Of stillness

That purple hour
Before dark voices descend on dusk
And each bird comes to drink
Just before the arguing of bullfrogs
And silent silhouettes of early bats
A coyote yips
Adding equilibrium to the soul
Of stillness

Ed Keenan © 6-06