Since there was no winner for this week’s feature, I bring to you a public domain poem by H.D. She is considered as an Imagist poet by many. See how deftly she describes the evening as it slowly turns into the night.
Next week, I hope to bring you the feature from the winner of the week 6.

Evening

by H.D. (1886 – 1961)
The light passes
from ridge to ridge,
from flower to flower—
the hepaticas, wide-spread
under the light
grow faint—
the petals reach inward,
the blue tips bend
toward the bluer heart
and the flowers are lost.

The cornel-buds are still white,
but shadows dart
from the cornel-roots—
black creeps from root to root,
each leaf
cuts another leaf on the grass,
shadow seeks shadow,
then both leaf
and leaf-shadow are lost.