An Orange Grove
The short sweet purple twilight dreams
Of vanish’d day, of coming night;
And like gold moons in the soft light
Each scented drooping orange gleams
From out the glossy leaves black-green
That make through noon a cool dark screen.
The dusk is silence, save the thrill
That stirs it from cicalas shrill.
SchyloLabs – Low Poly Fruits Box
Nations – Lemon Crate
Nations – Orange Crate
Urban Spirit – Stack Of Dirty Pallets
Razor Bird – Pile of Boxes
Razor Bird – Worn Old Wooden Chair
Mad Mesh – Mesh Ladder – Wood 2