the faded sun
has touched the world
with its orange glory
and slid away
leaving
lingering twilight.
I await the night
of undawning dark
the silent,
unbroken
dark of
hopeless night.
the diffused grey
dusk holds
the promise of
too many
false hopes

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An artifact of a rough time --- this was written sometime 1970-71 --- after an evening storm -- i was working toll on the whirlpool rapids bridge , a dark grimy hole, two layers down from the sky.
I've altered the form but not the content ---

for some reason, long forgotten, I titled more than a few poems written at that time in french.