Sunset from St. John’s

 

Because dusk is settling over the valley,

the yews are etched black

                                    against a runaway sky,

their branches tossed by a mean east wind.

 

Here are the high lands of the sky,

with violet hills and knots of inky cloud

like wooded knolls:

                                    ribbons of pale grey

split the sun before racing west.

Gulls thresh and fall on the angry wind,

wings dipped in liquid gold

                                    and edged with pink.

Sue Burley