We sometimes think that stunning
end-of-day skies happen only
at the edges of the Earth,
ideally standing on a spit of land
or sand by the ocean, where
some unseen hands watercolor
the heavens. But then we step
outside wherever we happen to be,
take in a swatch of sky, and there,
we breathe in the last light,
admire the swash of orangey
pink that turns a parking lot
into a moment of wonder,
this sky that will never again—
like us—look like this.


Trees and sunset, what more could we need? Beautiful moment and poem.
Thank you, Moudi! I appreciate your kind words!