Pixel Dusk Over the Quiet Grove

A round pale sun stills the striped evening air, While pixel hills melt slowly into prayer. The sky pours amber, magenta, then gold, And silence keeps its warm, unbroken hold. Small trees stand stitched with sparks of dotted light, Like city stars that wandered into night. Their shadows root where cooling colors meet, And dusk unfolds in squares, serene, complete.