I saw the sunset, dearest friend,
T'was beautiful, like your imagined embrace.

T'was silent, creeping like a native's run,
And the cloud, that seemed to follow

T'was the mountains, that made calmed my yearning breath,
And the trees, that seemed to bow

T'was the rolling hills, below the mountains, that bounced,
And the noises of cow and lamb, that seemed to crawl

T'was the fading blue, that sprayed at the end of the mountains,
And the grass, that seemed to bleed its color into the myths of day

I saw the sunset, dearest friend,
T'is what made me think of you,

Tomorrow, I shall watch the sunrise,
And be reminded, ecstatically, of you once again.
 

© Emily Stowell, 6/24/01