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Lovely. Here's a poem of mine, in praise of sunset:

Start, Again

Sunset is a gentle master to all that are stricken
patiently, teaching us how to melt a bruise away
Watch how, with a silver whisk, that cracked egg
of a setting sun is majestically stirred, and put to rest.

Violent violet, pining pink, and yelling yellow
all agitated, then muted, their differences reconciled
until all that remains is a faint tattoo of quiet hurt
pearlescent wisps of smoke from a sighing flame

that night stealthily smothers and hushes away…