Buoyant orange sunset floating slowly to the ground,

The last disciple rays shooting vagrant from the clouds.

A blanket worth of blackness slowly coats the winter sky,

A mourning for the day just passed as it begins to die.

The moon’s encroaching presence, shoos away the light,

leeching life out of the sun to illuminate the night.

The promise lost within the day now held within the dark.

Envy of the dark for the secrets it might hold,

wishing on a solemn star to take me to its fold.

Shadows cast in dusk’s bleak light

once shying from the day,

come out and serenade the night

to romp and leap and play

The day will come again my friend

don’t mourn its passing yet,

take the time, enjoy its end,

the glory of sunset.

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