PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Evening, in a pale blush,

settles across the sky;

the weary mendicant sun

makes his last slow steps;

houses tuck in for the night,

cars settle into their deaths,

and I see golden hair

in those last rays.



There is an honesty in memory

untouched by petty hows and wherefores,

a fuzzy comfort stretching

indefinitely.