The sun sets, easing its blistering rays;

grass grows golden in its caress

and the shadows lengthen and darken too.

Night comes but she stays, crouching in the light.

Guardian and last watcher of the day.

She regards me with calm and regales;

resting in shadow and bathed in the sun.

I gaze into her eyes and see her path,

the journey her weary form has taken.

Traveled far and seen so much more than I,

she draws rest and strength from where she does sit.

Her journey ends with the bright setting sun,

but her eyes tell me that I must press on.

One journey has ended. One has begun.


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