Dregs of the Setting Sun
The crimson disc of cold fire slowly ascends,
sets the edge of the translucent horizon ablaze,
as the cosmic colors the chromatic sky blends,
the sparkle of dew on meadow melts misty haze.
Crisp northern breeze flutters the fragile canopy,
cleaves channels thru’ curled foliage for sunbeam,
splashing gold on leaves rustling on ornate trees,
fringing the fawn vale effulgent in autumn gleam.
The crystal day in azure emptiness shines bright,
dawn to dusk the canvas called sky morphs in color.
Before the radiance of the day is consumed by night
I absorb the dregs of the setting sun's autumn glamor.
October 27, 2019
Brian Strand's Contest : A Brian Strand 2 To 14 Line
Copyright © Subimal Sinha-Roy | Year Posted 2019
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