The Abade Of The Red Sun Poem by Neburlar Viscosity
The Abade Of The Red Sun
And when, above, the clouds
part between the abade of the red
sun, and sets her tired winds
on the exhausted boughs,
and the moon sighs in the twilight
air, and the brisk stops,
like the last breath before
the plunge of the falling
petal, so does the turning.
And moments before it leans
in the corner of night, the shadow
of yesterday waits as though
it cannot be seen in the new moon.
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4/23/2024 2:24:33 AM # 1.0.0.1119
