Venus sinks in the west:
citrine snagged on twine
as it follows the sun.
Green glass insulators
separating long-dead wires
on the old telephone pole
catch day’s last light,
and a crow hovers,
covetous of the gleam
while a planet mistaken
for a star slips from sight.
M. Stone is a bookworm, birdwatcher, and stargazer who writes poetry and fiction while living in the foothills of the Blue Ridge Mountains. Her poems have appeared or are forthcoming in San Pedro River Review, Star 82 Review, UCity Review, and numerous other journals. She can be reached at writermstone.wordpress.com.
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