Last night
clouds turned cantaloupe electric,
backlit in neon.
That must be where God lives, I thought,
though I don’t much believe in God.
Sunsets are reason enough to imagine
that heaven’s in the sky —
a transcendent finale,
coda of the day.
As years count down, I think
about sunsets, seasons —
leaves falling,
branches bare.
Perhaps I should believe.
The closest I get is sunset —
enough ecstasy,
enough God.
Sarah Russell
For Poets United
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