There is a special texture
to the inspiration
that arises from sunsets:
It’s calm and quiet
like a pond
when the fish are
not hungry;
It suffuses the air with an air
of distance,
and makes the artist view
the world
through a squint.
Everything seems to go quiet
at sunset,
like a sweet and enclosed lull
between the clamor of day
and the clamor of night.
When I think of telling a story
to be proud of,
it seems to me
that somehow
at sunset,
it is
always
already
told in full.
Porch of Chrysalis
House
2127 16th
St
Boulder, CO
7:28 PM
03/23/2014
1 comment:
One would have to be numb not to feel this or blind not to be able to visualize your beautiful poem.
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