The Gloaming
The air was dusty in that warm dry August way.
The sun through scattered clouds did shine.
Both the light, and the air were just right.
The sunlight streamed forth in ray upon ray.
I, I had come to watch the gloaming.
There was time aplenty and that was fine.
I sat down feeling wry, and rather dry.
Though I had not sped whilst I was roaming.
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