rrodriguez
Solmonet
The evening sun is painting the horizon
With a luminous tapestry of strokes
Casting an array of protean guises
They are so visible in all scopes
Its hands are filled with pastel colors
Yellow, orange, red, purple, and green
Their refulgence like no others
Behold the spectacular scene
The seagulls cry a melancholic melody
They swirl heavenward in wings of white
Colors oozed in chromatic symphony
Dripping, dripping down the canvas sky
Its multiform expressions finished
The sun descends to its hidden abode
back to the earth his work unfinished
Faint beams of light died as he strode