In Autumn, 11:30 P.M.

[coolfunboy]

Your descriptions are abstract in a very tangible way-- overall, a very effective poem, that could still use some work.

Every step's a pitter-patter,
merging with the crickets chatter.
Water sighs its murmured hymn, [Great imagery so far.]
surrounding stones always give in.

I trek above the vales high [The meter is pretty awkward here-- it seems like you're going for 8 syllable lines, and this line is only 7.]
and smile at an orange sky,
where afterglow has left its mark;
it pleads the world to stray from dark. [I love the way the last three lines describe the oft-lauded sunset in an original way.]

And this is when I make my stop,
to watch night eat the afterglow;
the singing from the crickets stops, [Why does the rhyme scheme shift in this stanza? Also, the repetition of "stop/stops" should be avoided, especially because the two words don't rhyme.]
as night engulfs her victim, slow.

*/ thinking about changing the word "surrounding" in the last line of the first stanza to "eroding" if image comes across nebulous. /*