Tag Archives: sunset

Sunset Synthesis

Sunset Synthesis

That evening the lake
Hosted a convention of stars.
They floated in an array of sequined glory.
You threaded your fingers through mine –
Pulled me from my chair –
“Let’s go see the show.”

We sat on the pier – our legs dangled.
I shivered and you tucked me under your arm.
We watched the sun ripen
In a lemony slide toward the horizon –
I could smell it over the water.

You reached –
Plucked the skyfruit –
Squeezed it into a cerulean cup –
A juicy swirl of red, orange, yellow.
You drank and it made you glow.
“Leave me some.”

I reached –
The cup vanished.
Lingering drops of nectar
Glistened on your lips.
I kissed them off –
Sweet and hot fusion
Escalated through a florescent sky.
We rode the current – a twining helix of two.

When I opened my eyes
I saw that we were starlight.

H. Bullough 4-27-2017
Inspired by a poetry prompt at www.poetryprompts.tumblr.com.
Challenge: Write a poem with the phrase “and we were starlight.”

The Earthy Colors of Sunrise

The wall behind my desk is scattered with photos of the rusty, red-orange desert stone formations near where I live. I love those photos. If sunrises melted into hard, tangible earth, they would streak across the landscape just like that. A red watercolor with vertical drips that puddled at the bottom and orange horizontal streaks running below the horizon; the blue of the sky so intense you feel the heat of the sand, taste the grit in the dust stirred up by your feet, and know there could not possibly be any orange or red left for another sunset. Until evening comes, when the formations are cast into blackening shadow and the sky steals back it’s color from the earth to create a fire-show streaking across the western sky. Finally all the colors fade and the world  is plunged into cooling darkness until morning, when the earth steals the sunrise colors and makes them solid again.