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 —
Perhaps I should believe.
The closest I get is sunset —
For Poets United
Keening in a bruised sky,
follow the coastline south –
imperfect V’s, left wanting
on one side or the other –
testament, perhaps, to those taken
by foxes, hunger, double barrels,
their skeins unraveling autumn.
– Sarah Russell
First published in The Houseboat
Republished in Poems in the Waiting Room
Posted for dVerse Open Link