Smoke Rose Gold

The dome of the capitol looks to the Potomac river. 
  Out of haze over the sunset, 
  Out of a smoke rose gold: 
One star shines over the sunset. 
Night takes the dome and the river, the sun and the smoke rose gold,
The haze changes from sunset to star. 
The pour of a thin silver struggles against the dark. 
A star might call: It’s a long way across.