Whispers

Long the Evening

Long the evening was a dress
to the ankles of unrest
Black and silky in its way
curved upon a mysterious frame

Straps like minutes hung in time
each was delicate and yet refined
Hours plunged in a neck adorned
deeply down every moment worn

Lace like the lattice in moonlit groves
Streamed across highs and lows
The night fell past the curvy spine
into the hem upon the horizon line

The subtle slit of dawns divide
gave a glimpse of the stride
Before the frock's final foray
into the basket of the day