No one could prepare me for the resplendency, the esteemed majesty, of the mid-March sunset, in which the falling sun drapes itself in such red. So unexpected! I’ve seen its descent toward horizon for ten thousand eves- but not like this one. Crimson doesn’t do justice to these hues of deep, darkening skies. Reverence is evoked, though short-lived. Watching, I’m in awe.
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AuthorJack has published over 350 poems in his career, many with his own photography. He specializes in a view of the commonplace and Americana. Archives
January 2021
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