top of page
Search

Sunrise/Sunset

  • Writer: mbsphotog
    mbsphotog
  • Jan 13, 2020
  • 1 min read

Surely this crimson sky tells a story;

Undersides of clouds radiant; blood-like.

New day dawns with God’s brush painting.

Red sky in the morning, sailor’s warning,

I have heard it said since I was a child.

Surely this crimson sky tells a story

Everything in the world colored by Him.

Surely this crimson sky tells a story,

Undersides of clouds radiant; blood-like.

Now eve comes with God’s brush painting.

Surely this crimson sky tells a story,

Everything in the world colored by Him.

The night’s palette darkens again.

 
 
 

Recent Posts

See All
90

It is my dad's 90th birthday. Most people are not afforded that many years. He is in the Machias Hospital with demensia. I will never be ready for him to go. I love you father.

 
 
 
Two For (Not On Tuesday) Poems

Nezinscot River. Not much of a river but she’s mine. Easing through the wilds of Maine, Zigzagging slowly down hills Into the Androscoggin, Nezinscot’s flat water wanders. Silver moon sparkles on her

 
 
 
Two For Tuesday on a Sunday

Minnesota My map of Minnesota Is folded and creased, Narrow pencil lines follow Northerly routes and roads. Easing into St. Paul, Sunday morning suns Outline skyscrapers, Trailer trucks, dirty air And

 
 
 

Comments


Post: Blog2_Post

©2018 by New Spirit Writing and Photography. Proudly created with Wix.com

bottom of page