My Sunset
Wisps of clouds trailing in every direction
as if gusts of wind fancied themselves artists
and my sky their canvas
The usual colors interrupted by the green
you see in flames when you burn plastic
it evokes such a vivid memory that
for a second
I can see the glint of my brother’s eyes
from across the campfire
On the water red and blue trade places
as the ocean sighs up and down
the color a mess
like a child’s face
after he’s eaten berry pie
A temporary beauty
it peaks and starts to fade
the ocean always its mirror
Such glory exists
even when no one is there to witness it
But today I am here
and so it feels like it’s for me