At Sunset
Orange, red, pink or purple skiesMoon in the lower corner
Sun below on the horizon
Stars popping in, letting us know
They're out to sparkle
Clouds waving hello
As they stroll on by
Folks out to walk
In the cool of the evening
At Sunset
Orange, red, pink or purple skiesPoetry is not a turning loose of emotion, but an escape from emotion.
T. S. Eliot (1888-1965) American-English poet and playwright.
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