My Day
Slowly, slowly, slowly
black turns gray
then rose, pink, and blue.
The sun rises in the sky.
Good morning to you.
Then
creep, creep, creep
the sun arcs
across the sky.
Today is a clear day
with time to play.
At last,
silently, silently, silently
the sky pinks to rose then gray
as the sun slips
over the horizon
ending a sunny day.
It's dark and time to say
Good Night.
Hi Joy,
ReplyDeleteI like how this comes full circle. Why is it some days seem short and some seem long when each is the same length? There's a poem in me yet.
Linda A.
Thanks for stopping by, Linda. It seemed to me that there are tons of poems written about the moon, so I wanted to write one about the sun. Maybe I should write one about being a star too.
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