The poet intuits that magical time of day. A simple and plain statement. Hinting at the wonder behind the twilight as night begins to fall. I like that this poem seems unadorned and yet it speaks to something majestic. Simple finality or something.
Perfect due to its striking honesty. We learn to lie as we age. I experienced a chill after reading it. Full of feeling. Emotive. Revealing. Who was the intended reader I wonder? If only we could all remember the blessings of childhood. The innocent acceptance of things which later in life seem to get us writhing about.
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