Monday, 16 November 2009

The Whisper of Evening Wind

A Poem

The crimson of the morning sun
Melts in the gold by the day
Me immersed in my wayward thoughts
You in your toiling day

Dawn to dusk
We wither and wither and sway
Counting the tasks
Beyond the grasps far and away

The gold of the dissolving day
Turning crimson to vanishing nay
Evening wind whispering slowly
Thou have lost another day


  1. My favorite times - I can see the colors via your choice of words and the progression. I especially love the title, a phrase so simple yet new to me in a poem...I don't believe I've seen this before.

  2. And there is an innocence in this poem as well which is refreshing!