"River Valley Psalm" by Oscar Houck

River Valley Psalm

Down in the valley,

it’s the magic hour.

The day’s last light slants in from the invisible sun that’s

swimming now in the Pacific,

spattering gold on everything it touches.

Whitman’s leaves of long grass

and the trees walking up the mountainside

seem illuminated from within.

The river carries away the last of the world’s loneliness,

strung out along the shining silver length of its back.

Benevolent, merciful

darkness pours up from the valley floor,

smoke from the flame at

the dimming of the day.

All of it rising

into the thin silk veil

of pale blue night,

bashful and blessed

by the silence of stars.