Friday, March 17, 2023


Yesterday, I noticed on our daily evening walk 
That the sun had finally worked her way 
Around again (I know: it’s not her movement 
But our own) to that corner of the sky 
Where we can watch her as she sets, 
And so I grabbed my camera 
And hurried to the corner of our lawn 
That’s best for viewing, 
 Only to arrive just as she slipped 
 Below the horizon, as if she were a teacher,
 Or an artist, or an angry politician,
 Igniting all the crowd of clouds or lives 
 Her bold light touched 
 Even as she disappeared from view.

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