Torch Song

Avila Morning Diego Rivera


In the morn,
The clouds do mourn—
Though by eve,
There is reprieve.

In the afterglow,
The wind does blow—
Though the change
Bears an estrange.

In the twilight,
The dusk disguises moonlight—
Though in the middle of
Night, raises a torch above.

In the dawn,
The dark dons horizon—
Though sunup stands alone,
Next high noon his love is shown.


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