Walking Under the Falling Sun
Created: 06/23/2005
A blue blanket far above us
with pink blush lapping at the edges of the horizon
lets us know the sun was slowly falling.
The clouds were piled upon each other,
as though fluffed by some great hand,
they too were bathed in blush.
While walking under the falling sun,
we passed by a house with cyan gates,
when they glowed white in the night.
A tree sticks out of a yard,
yearning to see the world,
offering bouquets of yellow plumerias,
lined with violet.
Another house, with no yearning trees,
but instead,
a luscious deep green yard
with neatly-trimmed hedges
that glowed a deeper green in the pink and orange
of the falling sun.
Our path under the pale orange sky
is overgrown with bushes and trees,
that make us weave in and out of tangled branches,
and duck to avoid hanging leaves from above
Finishing up our walk,
the sun dips below the horizon
and the sky is splashed with orange and gold.
The sun slips away from our world,
empty swings and a lonely sandbox grow dark and cold
as shadows sweep over the smaller buildings.
One tall building looms over the rest,
its once beige exterior
bathed by the setting sun,
and as night creeps in
the lights from the buildings seem to spark with life,
bringing hope that the sun will shine its light once more
And as we round the last bend
the sun ends its walk around the earth
until tomorrow.
This was supposed to be an observation poem for our summer writing class. My mom and used to take walks around the neighborhood and I observed the sunset =P.
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