How We Watch the Sunset

Photo by Min An on Pexels.com

This is a poem I wrote in London years ago in response to an art exhibit I fell in love with. It also was the first poem that someone wanted to publish of mine, so I felt it fitting to be the first poem I put on the website.

How We Watch The Sunset

Paper mecheted in thought. Inside
the cerebellum of night, thinking,
the stolen colors of mothers
and fathers who finger paint eclipses and meteor
showers in skies that drip down upon us
like sherbet cones left too long
in the grasp of time. In junkyards
on mounds of moldy melons and musty minds, we sit
letting our hearts ache for Ziploc bags, to freshen
the intentions that have staled. Moments
rotted. Like bananas 
we let the the hands of the sun peel us, stripping
down the stench , the decay, the emptiness
of the Diet Pepsi cans that await a refill,
a moment that can't spill the secrets
of enchantment of sitting among
the glistening trash.
The inner-child in me sneezes
and finds a God bless you.



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