In England summer evenings remind us of the falling of the light, of village greens and the thump of willow on leather. In winter, evenings are dark, unlit and a time to be inside.The evening light, of twilight, of sunset, has another name in the movie business. They call it Ômagic hourÕ and sometimes it is just that. The heavy, golden light suffuses everything with a glow and fullness that gladdens our hearts and delights our eyes.For our poets this was a time of mystery and wonder; between the bright day and the canopy of stars that heralded sleep. This volume comes to you from Portable Poetry, a specialized imprint from Deadtree Publishing. Our range is large and growing and covers single poets, themes, and many compilations.