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Monday 23 April 2012

Evening Hours

Don’t look back
As shadows creep from bushes,
Stretch, coalesce,
To form that final, impenetrable dark.

The afterglow is burning
 Vermillion, gold, ice-green.

The thrush still sings amid the cherry blossom.

When the blue midnight is alight with stars,
When moonlight silvers a summer sea,
Rest in peace.
© Gill Dunstan
All rights reserved

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