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Sunset Wedge

I turned the corner briskly looking in, not out focusing on something deemed important and there far down the canyoned street where stone and heaven sharply meet

A wedge of winter sunset filled the triangle with flame beneath the oppressive weight of cloud upon cloud-slate.

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It startled me with its sharp cry of color. I made a note of it and there'll be winter evenings hence when I'll recall magnificence and how the wedge held tight to deep rose promises beneath descending night.