Sunset

Poem By elysabeth faslund

A russet-etched crone
Crouches in silhouette,
Clinging to memories
Of cradle-gold hair.

Cocks a pale, rheumy
Eye beyond her fire,
To ward off the dark claws
And night-crawling
Hunters.

A scant minute longer,
A life-moment more,
Until, head nodding,
She submits
And sleeps.


(Published in Poetry Nottingham, England./Winner of Poetry Nottingham contest.)

Comments about Sunset

I enjoyed this one. Like going to a museum.
Expertly drawn scene here, full of Shakespearian details. -chuck
Glorious poem. Your crone has charm. A beautifully understated portrait with heart. I'm flabbergasted that more people have not commented on this one. love, Allie xxxx
A wonderful portrait in sepia tones. Every word magnifies its delicate mood.


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