Still Life

The sun sinks slowly,

Ever in the west.

The crickets chirrup
At the water's edge in the east.

The creek ripples smoothly,
Alligators float silently.

The Great blue heron
Stands his silent vigil.

The breeze blows gently,
Sweetening the air.

The fresh green forest
Speaks of new, still life.

Author's Note

All types of comments are welcomed; critiques, spelling or grammatical corrections, suggestions to change bits, and even your own thoughts on the poem. All are appreciated!