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March 26, 2017 / hbrowne4

The Rusty City by Orla Ni Sheaghdha

Sienna

Purple and pink tinge the sky over the terracotta buildings as the sun goes to sleep.
I watch from my balcony as the day dies below me.
Vendors in the tourist traps pack up their stalls and draw over the canvas.
The red and orange tendrils of the departing sun touch off the rusty rooves as it sinks.
Darkness will soon encroach on the rusty city.

Ruby rhinestones revealed.
Rowdy revellers rip.
Rusty rubble remains.

 

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