Evening Poem, July 6, 2016

The sun sets
Tired from its own heat
Blind from its own light
The sky turns red
Embarrassed for old Sol

In the old house a window opens
To draw in the evening air
And the smell of the grass
Yellow light from the bedroom lamp
And the voices of baseball announcers
Drift out and down the street
As daylight fades
And heat escapes from the pavement

Copyright 2016

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