A Note About Sunset....

there is always something
that you have not seen about the sunset

you always evaded it
when you capture it with words

what was she wearing when she left you?
when your mom died miles away from you, what color did you see?

when you mourn upon love, what coldness was there?
when your friend betray you, what was it that faded inside you?

was it not the orange in sunset? was it not the darkness that it left
after it faded into a wordless space?

oh, it was you alone, as always, and yet you have failed to
record it exactly, the way passion paints a picture of itself.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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