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Sunset | ||
| Rod of orange in sky of gray Tells us it's the end of day. Straight and bright it hovers low, Sending out its eerie glow. If the clouds were not so thick, Sun could do another trick. Later on, the rod grows long, Sending out its message strong, Staying orange till sky is black, Clinging to its little crack. 'Tis a most persistent sun, Holding on till day is done. | ||
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