A Recipe For Sunset Ears
We came together, quiet, spent.
Gazing West, in each content
Watching clouds in red gold light
With three flutes each of Andre White
Uncorked with toast to absent friend
Slowly poured and softly sipped
each drop enjoyed until the end
The Glory's there but ne'er the same
sometimes it's sun but some times rain
The weather's there to spice the game
At times a field of dewfilled webs
reflects the afterglow
Or symphonies of sunlight fusion
dancing prancing up and down
on wind blown blades of grass
All enjoyed in sweet seclusion
until each holds an empty glass
Alas, this too will pass
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