AtLast_[07]

>> Sky <<

She feathered the sky in purple down With pink across it broadly thrown Stitched of golden sunset tones. Standing guard in silhouette Idled trappings days beget, Slighting eyes, All lost in this surprise.

Ever playful bird Reflects upon the soggy sand, Motionless, moved, unheard.

A rotted skiff which moans In evening’s chill, Hushed and still

Sleepy calm of grassy whispers Robe of dunes in painted vespers Lulling on the ground

Bent of ripples fixed on glass Wavered clouds that slowly pass