Author Jonathan Chaves West of the village, evening rays linger on red leaves as the moon rises over yellow reeds on the sandbank. The fisherman moves his paddle, thinking of home ā his pole, lying in its rack, will catch no more fish today. Tags Short Poems Rate this poem Select ratingGive it 1/5Give it 2/5Give it 3/5Give it 4/5Give it 5/5 No votes yet Rate Log in or register to post comments