Sunset
I saw a fine sunset
of bright citrus oranges –
of that a long wire –
and gold, harvest yellows.
I longed to not forget
how the wild color singed
the sky like a fire
when stoked by the bellows.
Sunset
I saw a fine sunset
of bright citrus oranges –
of that a long wire –
and gold, harvest yellows.
I longed to not forget
how the wild color singed
the sky like a fire
when stoked by the bellows.
David Murphy writes mystery novels, poetry, and other books, including a ranking of the Sherlock Holmes stories.
Visit his website at: www.davidlandonmurphy.com