After Supper

After supper, the sky is illuminated.
Flushed with golden green, the trees sparkle.
I run out to greet the sight, camera in hand.
The grass glows, basking in a singing sun.
A remnant of the storm is found in the earthen smell of rain, cool and damp.
I try in vain to capture what I see, but the sight eludes my lens.
I’m left with but an impression, surrounded by light.


  1. Matches your pics you posted. Don’t you feel as if words just can’t express what you’re feeling. Did a good job in this poem tho. Love it!

    Liked by 1 person

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