Ashen sky, late hour
we embers smolder low red
settled in the coal.
Painting by Frank Bramley, 'A Hopeless Dawn' 1888 in [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons.
“A poet is a nightingale, who sits in darkness and sings to cheer its own solitude with sweet sounds.” -Percy Bysshe Shelley
Water Today, warm raindrops glass blurs, the blurry glassy, sharp sparkles sugar. Behind Evening, it was good. Leaves all turned into shadow...
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