And there was morning, and there was evening….

Morning talks:
The bear shaped tree on the hill out my window, is always talking to some sea, i can’t quiet see through the brighter sudden-flashed pastels of morning glory. The sturdiness of bear, the transparency of the sky, while the sea is just listening to them talk, starting a good conversation—at least at dawn.
Morning knows the art of to how to start a conversation well.

Evening’s job:
That pastel glow of evening, how does it know when to go? After making the day remember itself so well, it just vanishes…each color having done their job for the day, trail off into night.
Evening knows the art of timely vanishing!