Poems About Sunsets from Emily Dickinson and Me

First, Emily Dickinson:

The Sea of Sunset

This is the land the sunset washes,
These are the banks of the Yellow Sea;
Where it rose, or whither it rushes,
These are the western mystery!

Night after night her purple traffic
Strews the landing with opal bales;
Merchantmen poise upon horizons,
Dip, and vanish with fairy sails.

Next, me:

Sledding at Sunset

The grass sleeps,
And the willow weeps
With icicles hung low.
With the fields tilled,
And the brook stilled,
Our life begins to slow.

We speed down vales
Of purple trails,
In snowbanks stunned we lie.
Rosy skylight fades,
And bright orange parades,
Like a caravan in the sky.

I follow you,
Dearest, palest blue,
Your mittened hand in mine.
The fresh snow meets
Our booted feet;
We’ll avoid the tree this time.

The pale birds hum–
Here we come!
Flying to meet the moon.
The willow sighs,
And we close our eyes,
Spring, don’t come too soon.

Photo: The view from my bedroom window at sunset