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.