Thursday, 22 February 2018

The End of Day.

In this tinsel world of botox faces,
perfect orthodontal smiles
and all those desperate attempts
to keep youthful looks

I’m thinking about
the headlong stampede of youth 
and the crumbling that comes with age

and I’m also thinking that for beauty
sunset’s red, orange and purple blaze 
equals sunrise’s swathe of pastel glow

and how, after the end of day,
is the velvet quilt of night
and the diamond litter of stars.

First published at One Sentence Poems.

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