Peace At Duskfall
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When dusk brushes mild hues on an old pier
The amber sun flames to quiver…then it's gone
As young stars cast their luster till predawn:
Not a float of mist ends day’s task, austere
That ebbing waves row through the pastel light---
And our town slumbers in virtuous midnight
When dusk brushes mild hues on an old pier.
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10/15/2019
Make it Seven Poetry Contest of Joseph May
Rhymes checked via rhymezone.com
Visual #2
Copyright © Nette Onclaud | Year Posted 2019
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