Friday, September 2, 2016

Red Dusk

                    Red Dusk

Red dusk breaks across horizon,
Bleeding like smeared mascara,
Across nature's cheek.

Weeping at the close of day,
Familiar hints of Autumn's approach,
Grief fades to blackness.

Don't weep for days past,
Remember not all that's been,
Pre-dawn's light brings new hope.

Each season changes life,
All to be experienced,
Born again in the season.

About the Author:  Brian Bucks lives on a small horse ranch in Western Nebraska and is a husband, father, electrical engineer, and poet.

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