The Fading Sun

Far past the fire of the day’s sun
Further, the stolen hours of dawn
Each pursuit nears the end of its run
A glinting afterglow leaves the lawn

Strain at the start, crash out the blocks
Day’s work ahead, ruler without scale
Weigh the midsection, go by the clock
Evening shows you, to succeed or to fail

Fruits of unknown toil inherited
A dying host yields a riotous party
Soon will the swine feed be unmerited
A windswept boast is heard unclearly

Embers linger from a bohemian summer
The coming chill, hauntingly brief still
The gentle evening was given its number
It is decided who’s mortgaged the bill

Something must continue, it won’t be us
Each man, each structure, a time
Wait for uncertain dawn, overlooking dusk
Or tend a garden, past pictured prime

Unscramble an egg, reinvent the wheel
Destruction’s broad gates admit futile fates
Every matter decays once congealed
Patience’s narrow path, chaos lies in wait

My name’s Stephen, I live in Northern Ireland. For just over a year I’ve
been writing poetry to try to find a glimpse of truths I don’t fully
understand. I’ve only recently been posting them at
https://hawthornepassage.wordpress.com

If you would like to have your work published in The Poetry Bar send your poem, a few words about yourself and the link to your blog to the e-mail poetrybar1@gmail.com 

2 thoughts on “The Fading Sun

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