Night Comes to the Evening Table

My response to Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie and Wordle #90

 

At day’s zenith,

The hearse of narcissistic night approaches,

Etiolates the remains of sunset,

A nightshade

Obsequious and vague.

The sun’s areola,

Disintegrating

In drifting cloud,

Is lost in the murmur

Of the wide winter sky.

 

© Kim M. Russell, 2015

Sunset the Sunday before Christmas

 

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