There’s something about where you stand against a setting sun when you watch it set. These last 15 minutes are the most important the colors deepen crawl across our skin a professional highlight applied by the Gods. Sunset Control. The sky is on fire getting all stretched distorted the clouds bleed here on the coastal bluff I guess we’re the lucky ones always the last to see her say her dramatic goodbye. Even on this winter night her rays try and warm us everyone stops and gathers to watch the orb drop. Only these last few minutes is it safe to stare it’s not so dangerous anymore. We remove our sunglasses and sink into each other. Shadows draw on the ground like long crawling fingers. I can only imagine how pretty we must look from that crisp horizon. With every ounce in her the sky reflects one last show, she fights her surrender fighting the downward pull. We’ll wait through the night come morning she’ll come storming right back with the most amazing sunrise. Beauty squarely rests on her brilliant shoulders.
as she wakes, early this day
in darkness she no longer
sleeps, once more she is,
stretching herself
along the horizon. Her
body slowly rises opening
her eyes, rising above
distant mountains bathing
them in warm soft pastel
shades, blushing pink, softest
blue she reflects upon the
clouds, as this was her first
morning after the dawning
of time.
Reblogged this on The Reluctant Poet.
LikeLiked by 1 person
as she wakes, early this day
in darkness she no longer
sleeps, once more she is,
stretching herself
along the horizon. Her
body slowly rises opening
her eyes, rising above
distant mountains bathing
them in warm soft pastel
shades, blushing pink, softest
blue she reflects upon the
clouds, as this was her first
morning after the dawning
of time.
LikeLiked by 1 person