the.com/eventide
that gold hour when the world exhales and pretends the day went fine
old wordAnglo-Saxon for evening, alive since before England was England
blue lighttwilight scatters short wavelengths, painting the sky electric blue
animal cuecrepuscular creatures wake precisely now, dodging both day and night hunters
poet baitTennyson, Poe, and hymn writers all hoarded this single syllable