Author Information
Sunset Watch
In a place so farm from here
We only hear its name
Whispered on an odd sultry wind now and then
Lives a people that fell
From the sky and cast no shadows
On the grassy meadows they call home
There was war long ago
Once they were a proud and naked tribe
The fallen were cast out stones
Upon a wide-open pond
But found a green place with room
Enough for wounds to mend
So far from here
The wind whispers our names
To the naked tribe of the grass
They feel our cruelties
In the color
In the skies their sun cradles in
This red keeps them away
Though their arms are open
Their fists are closed
Remembering who they were
When this red
Was last seen
