Orange and magenta sky of dusk
caressing the blue of sorrow
though predestined and of no surprise.

Soft wisps of the reminiscent mists
flowering off the weeping branches
of the willow so strong.

though terse and coarse in every situation
with the rain, the mists, and the inevitable dew of the morning after-
closure consoles the soul.

We do not cease.
The mists and the dews salubrious
preserve us and carry us
to the next era of our history.