A Sunset Poem by Charles Hanson Towne
A Sunset
Far in the gold-embroidered west
The round and red sun lay,
Like a great wound upon the breast
Of the slow-dying day.
Night, and a murmur from the east;
I heard the wind's voice roll
Out of the dark, a solemn priest,
Speeding the day's white soul.
Saturday, April 3, 2010
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4/19/2024 5:46:37 PM # 1.0.0.1119
