Sunset

102704sunset.jpgThe sun sets over the Blue Ridge Parkway near Rocky Knob.

I’ve watch the sun set on every continent on this Earth but Blue Ridge sunsets remain my favorite. Sometimes I take the long way home just so I can sit alongside a rode and wait for the sun to dip behind the mountains.

How the old Mountains drip with Sunset
How the Hemlocks burn—
How the Dun Brake is draped in Cinder
By the Wizard Sun—

How the old Steeples hand the Scarlet
Till the Ball is full—
Have I the lip of the Flamingo
That I dare to tell?

Then, how the Fire ebbs like Billows—
Touching all the Grass
With a departing—Sapphire—feature—
As a Duchess passed—

How a small Dusk crawls on the Village
Till the Houses blot
And the odd Flambeau, no men carry
Glimmer on the Street—

How it is Night—in Nest and Kennel—
And where was the Wood—
Just a Dome of Abyss is Bowing
Into Solitude—

These are the Visions flitted Guido—
Titian—never told—
Domenichino dropped his pencil—
Paralyzed, with Gold—

–Emily Dickinson

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