I was dazed by the colors of dusk,
astounded by its clarity,
immediately inebriated by light,
spellbound by saturated hues,
clouds aflame in saffron, tiger and tangerine,
brushes of amaranth,
lost in Egyptian blue.
Others stopped to stare at the sky,
to pause along our crossing paths
and set aside,
for a moment or two,
their chores tonight.
We derelicts, who prefer to be done
at times, rather than “do.”
Why gaze at the sun’s long scattered rays,
so distant and desperately brief
these amazing seraphic displays,
that return, rapt, every day,
yet, the unusual is nothing new,
“why then do I care,”
I asked below this crescent moon.
My eyes traced the silhouette of birds
and dendritic limbs,
as bare of leaves, as I of words
And when still no one spoke,
the answer to “why this” grew clearer,
how we turn ourselves inside out
for the beauty within that seeks a mirror.
