I wrote this poem the other night, thought I’d share it:

Sunset throws its long rays across the page,

Slipping away as the quiet hall, full of voices, fills.

The shining orb sinks beneath the window,

And streetlights twinkle silently across the valley.

The bright hall sighs and turns the page.

Somewhere walkers taste the starlit air

And feel alive with summer on their skin.

The moon waxes and wanes above them,

The hall empties and fills, like the breath

Of a silent giant’s sleeping calm.

Dawn gathers her strength in the east, and

The bright hall sighs and turns the page.