I gaze quietly out the window,
The pinks, oranges, and reds blend.
Their colors mix like they were painted with an artist's brush.
The golden light of the fading sun
Bounces off of a paper birch
Basking it in pure, golden light.
How many sunsets a year are as beautiful as this?
Finally, I turn back to my book,
Soon the sun will disappear behind the horizon.
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