"Come and see" said my uncle.
I stopped feeding the cows in the barn and followed him

out beyond the field in the haze
with an odd tinge of jaundice on the horizon.

Sunset approached, though everything was veiled
by the dusty mist that tinted everything.

He pointed up at our long shadows
streteched behind us.

The sun was scarelet and scattered
into an amorphous shape like a bloody cloud.

If I squinted, it almost seemed like a giant rose,
hanging impossibly in the cerulean sky.

And the more I looked at it, the clearer it became,
blooming fresh beauty in the dusklight.