Red Sky at Night

 

Retiring into the deep

Colors of the day

 

We come to the end

When light must give

Way to night

 

We sigh and with

Misty breath, exhale

 

Into the coming dark

 

No more arguments

To make against the

Day

 

Maybe a farmer’s

Understanding, for

There are evening

Laborers

 

Whose cycle will

Reverse the colors

 

Sorry, perhaps, for

Those who cannot

Read the final

Message in the dusk

Of dying day

 

Well, look to new hues

In the tellings that

Arrive, whenever

 

Daytime and

Nighttime meet, alive

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