V E R T I C L E

The Sun—slips down—its Scarlet Robe Upon—the Hill— The Breeze—collects—the Yellow Dust— In Whispers—still— A Sparrow—shakes—the Evening’s Hem— To catch—a Star— While Night—unveils—her Violet Ark— From Afar— The Earth—recedes—to Twilight’s Breath— And Dreams—unfold— The Skies—proclaim—the Quiet Death— Of Light—untold— :: 11.24.2024 ::