-- AS THE SUN GOES DOWN --

John Herlihy

With my thick legs dangling over the pier,

I watch the soft paintbrush of the sun go down.

The great flaming orb with only itself to steer,

Shooting rays of red and yellow, orange and brown.

The long, low sky rolls itself up in rainbow glory;

The carpet of earth below rolls onward with no escape.

Immense sky and rugged earth tell an unlikely story;

Unravelling at my feet, an image only God could make.

All the wispy clouds that fly, all the dusty roads that run,

All the threadbare hobos that across the land roam.

All the children across the land who cry and have fun,

On the horizon the light is falling, the wind does moan.

All the people who dream themselves into the immensity,

In a world that has run amuck and turned out all wrong.

All the children who love and laugh in their own propensity,

All the croaking frogs, grinding crickets, blend with birdsong.

Rest assured stars will soon be out twinkling in the night sky;

God who never slumbers wraps the world in a heavenly mantle.

The sickle of a moon ever falling, hanging by a thread on high,

As the breath of spirit blows across the plains in a wind gentle.

The drooping North Star will lay itself down beyond the prairie;

Coming night will bless the earth, darken rivers, fold in the shore.

Nobody knows what is going to happen, except the midnight fairy;

Who draws down the sun, turns off the lights, closes the barn door.

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(c) John Herlihy 30 March 2019