Day's EdgeA Poem by englishoedipusI remember how my eyes stung, Burned by the utter perfection of a setting star. Warbling fingers of steam reached at the receding horizon, Desperately grasping at the edge of light. The sky lastingly illuminated by the great ball of fire. Pinks and purples mingled at the edge of the world, Soon to be overtaken by the dark hues of night. © 2014 englishoedipus |
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Added on March 23, 2014 Last Updated on March 23, 2014 |