The beauty of the sunset
on an April, after 6
rose and crystal, stain-glass hues
streak like watercolors
mad fits of big city rage..
A never-ending ocean canvas...
The world turns
while I stand still
scratching my head...
Atop a hill, I see...
Tight-edged tanks, Tau Delta
tinting pink...
The voluptuous, slender, curving...
stalks of grass
Gentle tides are ebbing with the moon
And ten e-mails, articles, prospectae,
stuck inside
A day and a poem have come
To pass.
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