Below the Horizon by Stephen Eng

(for Anne, Mary, Michael, David, and Natalie Eng)

Beginning poets write of sunsets, yes,
And so do ending poets, too,
Wan singers whose exhausted little tunes are through,
Who sing one final tune of purple-splendored rosiness,
Of twilight turned to violet
And then to grey. Poetic suns have set,
As black-winged angels press their skeletal-caress.

From: Eng, Steve, Yellow Rider and Other Fantasy Poems, 1999, Gothic Press: Baton Rouge, Louisiana, p. 35.
(https://books.google.com.au/books?id=zQatrhzcxnAC)

Date: 1999

By: Steve Eng (19??- )