Transition

That time when late afternoon and early evening are meeting. Sun and moon seem set to hustle as to who takes possession of the darkening sky.
From somewhere comes the subdued sound of playing children. Birds sit on telephone wires and pretend that daylight never fades. A cyclist ambles home without his light. Night creatures are still asleep, the daisies on the lawn remain detergent bright.

With silent surrender, day slips off. Night's black agent sets out his stall, claiming his sky percentage.
Light has changed into deep indigo. Somewhere an invisible deep-throated owl oohoos the final transition.