Gilt by a setting sun
Trees
Golden
Across the lake
On the shore
A window on an unseen cabin
Angled just right
Ablaze with reflected light
This side, this shore
Could seem gloomy here in the woods
At the foot of the hill
No sunlight on grass or leaves
But tomorrow’s coolness of morning
Fresh sparkle of sun’s rising
Brings a new day
A new beginning
©2017 Thomas W. Cummins
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Tags: Nature, poetry, Solitude
This entry was posted on October 4, 2017 at 8:11 am and is filed under Minnesota, Nature, Personal, Poetry, Solitude. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed.
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In a dim light... 
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