Sun comes up, sun comes down. It is as simple as that folks.
Here is the sun rise looking eastward over Lindisfarne bay.
Have an old poem of mine, no charge:
Saturday
Some time later I awoke in an unfamiliar room.
Sunlight filtering through the broken venetions,
sneaking through net curtains to caress bare toes.
In the distance, the constant hum of a lawnmower,
on the floor a shirt peeled off only hours earlier.
Rolling onto my back I struggle to remember you.
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