Lilac Drizzle

The light is growing dim, like violet rain
Misting against the faces of the flowers,
Lacing the grasses with its lilac scent,
Touching the branches with the feel of rain.
It falls along the hollows of the ground,
Drifting like orchid mist among the ferns,
Dimming the phlox with liquid lavender.
And every small thing's wing is coolness-brushed.
A brief, lilac drizzle this, before
There rushes down the purple, streaming night.