Evening Voices & Hues

I hear the wind howl through the gaps
Whispering, solemnly to the approaching dusk
I hear your name being sung, by fading rhyme
One hundred bird voices; flying towards sunset

Green, and the taste of seasoned vegetables
Purple hues, of flowers and her fragrances
Black and pink, of waddling pigeons, dressed
Huhuhu-ing from the lonely rooftops

Orange is sunset, a shade of blushing
And to end this little muse of mine
Let Providence remember this song
On a quiet evening in mild climates