Finale
It shimmers
like a painting—
gypsy fireflies
in evening’s afterglow—
scents of citronella
on patios, pastel drinks
and melted ice cream—
musk melon of moon
oozing above trees.
We whisper
in dark cliques
as a faint ring
of city lights
vermilions western sky—
late summer breeze
turning cool,
murmuring softly—
all is lost.
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