Dying of the Day
There is beauty in the dying of the day
where shadows lengthen in the dusk
waters ripple with enchanted hush
as twilight chases the sunlight away.
The waning light casts flames beneath
low, fading clouds, in searing reds
with hints of blue above their heads
as darkness calls the day to sleep.
And as the grand metropolis grows dim
across that widespread River
a flock of geese swim in a sliver
of moonlight, ‘neath branch and limb.
Another day passes quietly away
like currents that move steadily along
replaced by night and crickets in song
until day returns in glorious array.
Written on 10/17/2019
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
