Three Vespers Poem by Steven Federle

Three Vespers



In the day’s final glow
all colors flow
to the whispering breeze,
dark, rustling
leaves.

Through the hot afternoon
with purpose I moved
and never did think
bright day would sink
to gloom.

In the gentle west wind,
in the soft starry glow,
I hear you sing
and then I know
never will you
leave me
alone.

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Steven Federle

Steven Federle

Cincinnati Ohio
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