
Abstract Photo by Marsha Heiken
sing the sundown
a refrain for the ages
your sky forever
*********************
“Every poem an epitaph.” – TS Eliot
Abstract Photo by Marsha Heiken
sing the sundown
a refrain for the ages
your sky forever
*********************
“Every poem an epitaph.” – TS Eliot
“Sunset in the Graveyard of Trees” by Tony Karp
it’s quiet in the shade of years
dreams no more than murmurs
the growl of ego long since spent
the brassy noise of strident youth
transposed to dulcet memories
as time exerts its damping force
the shadows seek reflective thought
within the mind persist mute clicks
a lifetime rolls like reels of film
with captioned silent questions
the wonder now no longer what
or why but rather when and how
it’s quiet in the shade of years
the only sound the setting sun
“Venice Sunset” by Ginette Callaway
stained glass skies
lovers’ light
paints their promises
hushed liquid lanes
carry vespers on
hours of evening
soft whispering
maritime breezes
speak centuries
into a chorus of
stucco and stone
quiet colors of
history blending
with hopes for a
future of hearts
still stylish with youth
and its passions
a fusion of water
of land and of sky
with those yearnings
as timelessly human
as life in itself
“Colorful Sunset” by Anna Ruzsan
sky sublime in its sunset
svelte colors that shift
with emotion of eyes
spectrum carried aglow
upon broad vivid bands
iridescent of nacre
as if to send hope
to attack the despair
of a troubled humanity
giving organic reminder
the world is our oyster
its pearl hidden
somewhere behind
fall of night
in the deep unlit
promise of sunrise
“Dark Magic Sky Reflected in the Lake” by Rock Bull
watching the lake watch the sky
still in youth of a trimester summer
these dim ancient eyes trying hard
to interpret the rippling of clouds
scudding gold in formations of flight
from an angry explosion of sunset
confessing their sins to these waters
unaware of my witness and eavesdrop
that causes my turn of attention to
all that I’ve done in my long day of life
I stand into the lake till it covers me
cleanses me washed with both water
and sky before time sends descent of its
deaf dumb and blind seal of darkness
“The Gloaming 2” by Randall David Tipton
deer emerge from the wood
wrens return to the nest
sensing wisely the safety
afforded by purpling sunset
when eyes of the predator
carry the least trace of trust
shadows gather like families
drinking the cool air of gloaming
that hour of graceful transition
a time to take stock mark the
blessings of nature detached from
the stresses of human-made life
Writer Lynne Sargent
Poetry Puttering by Pax & Company
Sometimes everything has to be enscribed across the heavens so you can find the one line already written inside you. Sometimes it takes a great sky to find that small, bright, and indescribable wedge of freedom in your own heart. David Whyte
"drink from the well of your self and begin again" ~charles bukowski
no dust here
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I am where the valleys are deep, the mountains are high, and the wind moans through trees...