Baby blues and powder pink with blush of rose’s red

The Autumn sky at dusk appears like watercolors bled

Fading into mauve-ish greys night falls like charcoal dust

The shiny metal of the day now shows as faded rust

How rich the heaven’s colors just before the night removes

All traces of identities held by light’s defining hues

The blanket of the evening slowly pulled to cover tight

The slumbering form of Yesterday as it dreams of Dawn’s first light.

By James Geehring

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