The Flowing Rain

The setting sun sinks slowly down to bed,
Closing its eye and falling into a short slumber.
Aureate rays swirl into crimson red,
Blending darker shades of warm umber,

From myriad vivid indigo, violet, carnation pinks.

Snap—
Click!

It was October, 
but Margo was still wearing 
short summer skirts. 

It was one that had
Turquoise blue flower prints,
the one that didn't 
go past her knees.

Another one that she wore