When the sun sets,
A certain way,
The light remains,
Although the source of it
Is sloŵly extinguished.
And where the clouds
Bank and congregate,
It is as if someone
Has taken a paintbrush
And lazily dragged
À Ribbon of tangerine
Across the sky.
© Text Caro Ness 2016
Photo: www.twicopy.com
This post first appeared on Caro Ness Author | Thoughts And Musings, please read the originial post: here
