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Evening, Evening | Poem

 

EVENINGEVENING

 

  the westing sun bisects the gray carpet with a golden rule

  reed bottom chair at the window has learned to be a throne

  the plastic shades and the ragtag bush

  have conspired together (inspired by the lowering light)

  to make a delicate brush and ink from some forgotten dynasty

  evening evening

  my family gathers at the table to laugh and argue

  slow talk of our days

  the warmth is gathered and remembered

  to carry me through to another morning

-Ken Peters
 

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