my way back home

even the trees whisper “grace”
as the setting sun dressed
in her best shimmering gown
commemorates the day's end
on my way back home.

and the evening breeze slows its run
to caress golden leaves in a dance,
sweeps their feet off into unknown
places, a single breath utters
on my way back home.

P.S.: A single breath uttered, then at peace with this world...or at least I hope.