Sunsets in the city aren't the most romantic affair— you see, there's no sun-dipping-into-the-horizon (because there is no horizon) no distant crash of waves or the chirping of unknown birds, (Though you might just get a nice breeze if you're lucky) there's no fire in the hearth slowly going out. But leaning here against the balcony's railing Gazing at the sky you just know you just feel the sun setting And a slight smile creeps up your lips and you feel the railing's warmth which has had time to heat up the entire day, but also its strangely soothing metallic cool. You just know you're watching a sunset without watching the sun set— In the gradient of the sky blue, then a hint of thunderstorm grey, soft lamplight orange, then lovely, lovely pink before finally descending into the grey-blue of the oncoming night. The oncoming night, which does not fall, but rises Though not before that flock of birds stops tracing figures-of-eight in the dusk then zeroes, and gets thinner and thinner as each bird alights on the 'chosen one' tree, Not before that lone kite stops floating in the swirls and eddies of the streetlight wind, Not before you finally notice the mosquitoes in your feet and wish those powerlines in front of your house cutting through every view would just disappear forever, Not before you still heave a contented sigh and go back inside, missing it already.
26th April/ (14/30) / Free verse