The Blood Red Sun
By John Herlihy

Sunset ushers in the end of day,
As if having the last word to say.
This day I lifted my head in terror,
Seeing the unexpected in the mirror.
The dying sun had turned blood red,
As if pouring out its heart, fully bled.
The sun’s weight seemed enormous,
Descending slowly in its own torment.
Stored it seems all the furtive warmth,
Of the summer day, now draining away.
In a blast of pumping out across the dusk,
The scarlet specter slid down, down, down.
The red eye of the sun dripping more blood,
Dispensing into the nearby clouds in a flood.
At eventide, there on the rim of the world,
Nearby clouds moving as banners unfurled.
The blood red sun doesn’t last long before
Draining away below the lip of the horizon,
Being escorted by twilight into its grave.
With faint light fading, shadows give birth
The darkening being drawn from the earth
I blinked, then the eerie sight was gone,
Vanished as if it had never happened.
Leaving behind all the colors of the rainbow,
Dying light, in the dreamy heavens, all aglow.