. Late Autumn Twilight The still earth beckons sweetly. I must go. The dry reeds on the creek have gathered round. The waters, in suspense, have ceased to flow. Along the bank, no creature makes a sound. The sky is lit up brightly, baby blue. Pink clouds have come from miles around to greet me. I must not keep them waiting long in queue, For soon, the light of evening will fade fleetly. The earth grows softer as the sun now sets, Releasing tension through the cool drafts blowing--- No time for disappointments or regrets. The crisp air calls to me. I must get going! . . Martin Rizley grew up in Oklahoma and in Texas, and has served in pastoral ministry both in the United States and in Europe. He is currently serving as the pastor of a small evangelical church in the city of Málaga on the southern coast of Spain, where he lives with his wife and daughter. Martin has enjoyed writing and reading poetry as a hobby since his early youth.