There is a tide mysterious as the sea, <br />Dividing light and darkness endlessly, <br />West of the moment's own necessity. <br /> <br />A touch of sunset on a distant hill <br />Gives vividness a little music still. <br />It plays our song, my friend, against all will. <br /> <br />Wind plucks the lonely harp strings of the air. <br />Loss of the landscape is beyond compare. <br />Our solace is the humanness we share. <br /> <br />Previously published, 'Poetry Depth Quarterly'<br /><br />Sandra Fowler<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/a-touch-of-sunset/
