Our Last Sunset
The sky tonight spills a bouquet of rose petal lights -
a marriage of confetti clouds, a mirage of rosy haze rays.
The sands are flushed with evening's delicate blush,
a gentle watercolour wash on the shingle-shushed shore.
The dying sun bleeds crimson rivulets of light -
vermilion, scarlet, ruby, garnet -
blood-tinged crystals glimmering on the tide.
Shimmering moments when time and togetherness entwine,
when the bright tin-silver light of day ebbs quietly away
and the sea shivers glittering prisms of apricot light.
Let us hold the moment and linger on the blush-flushed cusp
of night, where tranquillity and twilight combine,
warmed by the low love-glow of the spruce-scented sky.
Let the susurrous whisper of waves answer difficult questions -
those that we fear to ask. Watch reality drift far out to sea;
the brittle dry driftwood of halting words and hard choices
floating out on roseate ripples of the tide.
Shall we sit together on the salt-sparkling shore
of a new tomorrow? Or will the sun go down around us,
our love diminishing in its dwindling light?
Copyright © Charlotte Puddifoot | Year Posted 2023
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