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The setting sun throws its golden red glow over the clouds, Like a cloak, it settles snugly into nooks and crannies, tight. All is silent now; night awaits its rightful time, bathed in glory, Stars, actors in the wing, stand by to stud the black, diamond bright.
© Susan J Ashdown 2004
Kenzo Okawa
Mixed bag
...also described as a potpourri of words
