(oops, I need to change the time on my camera ! no, I did not see tomorrow's sunset today:)
Beyond the trees she fell
A flaming crimson orb
Into the mystic swell
Of history's never-more
No farewell did she speak
But simply flung her shroud
Against the higher peak
And to the lower cloud
We watch in quiet awe
Her riveting descent
As night-shades softly draw
Across earth’s humble tent
© Janet Martin
Love this one, Janet. It really flows.
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