The Fifth Evening of August

I saw through my eyes,
The calm of the evening,
The yellowness of the clowns,
That sun colored,
It was peace,
It was quiet,
Even the day was unkind.

I saw through my windows,
The blue sky,
The white clouds,
That one evening,
It was cold,
It was sad,
Even the day was peaceful and quiet.

The wind brushed smoothly,
The trees whispered slowly,
The evening died lonely,
Leaving an echo of melancholy