sunset 4/24/01
the sky tonight lacks its fiery orange
instead washing pinks and purple fairyland over rain-tinged blue
tracing silver glitter into clouds
stretched out cottonballs seeped in pastel paint;
not the momentary glimpse of something unearthly
with glory shot in fire on the horizon
only a gentle alien watercolor in glimpses between the trees
reminding me of some twilight in childhood
that i think i never saw, only dreamt.
i wish i had angel wings
and could sing my way to belonging in the sky
on clouds so vibrant they could explode
and rain sparkling honey nectar on my face.
instead i find myself in the grocery store
wandering through sad aisles and small faces
past the produce that smells like christmas somehow
for butter and lemons and something less important
cold between tv dinners and frozen pizza
and i think of ginsberg, his supermarket in california;
i too feel absurd.
four dollars and some cents later
the cinderella sky is gone,
leaving only pink trails gracing the western clouds
like kites being pulled by a child in japan
and an ethereal glow of the day’s fading
more quickly than i can smell the change in the air;
i close my eyes to the first stars singing their goodnights
and look up only to the last blue fibers clinging to the dusk
letting go with a sigh and fading grey to black.