Night Fall in a Ghost Town

red sky ghost town

It’s quite

The last light

Is a crescent blade

Immersed in the crimson

Smoke of a raging conflagration

This town of long gone spirits now sleeps

Gone are the wayward pioneers of the plaines

Disappeared now are the bison and antelope

Gold diggers shed their pans for timber

A community of hermits has grown

Sick of the sounds and lights

They run to the clear air

They find a splendid

Night fall in a

Ghost town



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