The sun falls again.
It clangs a church bell on the way.
Horses gather at the white fence.
Their discordant tales swish a unified prayer.
In the hollow, crickets speak vespers.
In the hollow, a cow lingers with one last grassy mouthful.
At the church, a divorce ceremony concludes.
A rubber stamp for last Thursday’s decree.
The neighborhood is now whole again.
The diminishing metaphors cease.
A mugger bypasses his next victim.
The slanted light of a falling sun
made her too beautiful to approach. He treasures
the moment too much to abandon it for money.
copyright © 2019 Kenneth P. Gurney
Umflop 
Beautiful.
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