The Moya View

After the Sun Has Gone

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Oh, when the sun yields child

to the soft caress of the night

 

After the sun has gone.

After the sun has gone.

 

That lifts the wind

after the sun has gone.

 

The last  of wonder and awe

That turns life

from a beach shell echo

 

to  a cornucopia

after the sun has gone.

 

Life without a shell must

shake out the shadows

 

live full to overflowing

less it dry after the sun has gone

 

leaving the child still, beautiful silent

in the beach tide after the sun has gone.

 

After the sun has gone.

 


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