At the End of the Day

As he left
Winter sun painted
Lavender ribbons
And golden feathers
All over the sky before he hid
Behind the mountain

The Med sighed
Then withdrew in the dark

About emmylgant

Cloud watcher and dreamer sometimes wise, often foolish, but I am what I am.
This entry was posted in Life, Pandora's box and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

14 Responses to At the End of the Day

  1. PapaBear says:

    There’s always a bit of bittersweet at the close of a beautiful day…, a longing for just a little more time, but the realization of the reality that it is over. What a beautiful metaphor for life, Em.
    Paul

    Like

  2. Ah, I sense the sadness at his leaving, and yet not sorrow
    But who am I to judge

    Like

  3. Les Alpes Maritimes cachent bien le soleil.
    La Med n’a plus la lumiere.
    Le monde dort.
    C’est bien et, comme ta poeme, tranquille.

    Like

    • emmylgant says:

      C’est ca. Chez moi, c’est le Massif des Maures qui cache le soleil et j’ai une petite montagne tout a cote a l’ouest, donc le soleil se couche toujours derriere elle. Tout est tranquille, c’est vrai.

      Like

  4. makagutu says:

    Beautiful.
    Did he look back before he closed the door?

    Like

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