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DUSK
The for-me-not blue sky
with its clouds floating by,
dulls as the sun goes westering
as one by one birds cease to sing.
The dying sun casts a rich golden sheen
making the world in new colours be seen,
twilight, then dusk comes before the night
like a caring mother leaving on the light
for a frightened child to keep fear away
and lengthen out a little a glorious day.
(Millicent) Ann Margetson October 11, 2002