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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