A Crimson Sky Breaks the Distant Shore

I squinted while gazing into the western skies my attention drawn to banks where willows wept. Twilight, a melange of magical moments in my eyes, usually interludes when twilight colors were windswept just before the juncture where daylight slowly faded and the reign between sun and moon were traded. But tonight, "a crimson sky breaks the distant shore." Appearing low across the horizon as if flames of fire or a canvas where vermillion paint fills every open pore. Dusk glows with summer heat as shifts of light transpire. Silently, the sun sinks, and the transfer of rule unfolds. Trailing behind are gossamer rays of ambers and golds.