“Sunset Song,” New Era, Aug. 1983, 21
Petals of roses, flamboyant and soft
float from the earth
when their duty to the bush is through.
As the sun leaves the sky
they gently flame the horizon,
and like scented seraphs they
herald the stars.
If I were a sleepy cygnet
(Sometimes I wish I could be)
I would wake in the early evening
to fly over the silver sea.
I would wait for the sunset to be mirrored blow,
Broken somewhat by ripples and dappled
Then I would soar for a while
through translucent clouds.