BY AINSLEY CARMAN

At the end of the day

The sun descends from the sky

And all at once

Gold is cast in these strange shadows

Through dark forests

And buzzing fields

And what I love

In these quiet moments is that

The sun has silently chosen

Small pieces

Tiny corners

Individual flowers

From dense patches

To highlight

Illuminate

Pull apart from all else

That stands beside oneself

 

And it would be nice,

If God chose to cast this gold light

Upon my quiet soul

At the end of an ordinary day

Because the sweet warmth

Of the sun

Has always embraced my skin

And fed my soul

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