This wanted to rhyme, but I didn't want it to.
|No sunset tonight, she groused
while sitting on the eastern shore
of Lake Ontario. The water stretched out
to the horizon. Absolutely, it was throttled
in low, grey, morose clouds -- the flat kind
that not even an excellent imagination
could force into being a dragon or anything else.
No sunset tonight, she complained
while sitting in her fussy camp chair
that retails for $85.00 (I checked!) while
holding her cell phone camera at the ready
just in case the apocalypse instantly cleared
the clouds and blew them all away. She looked
angry and that just seemed so sad.
No sunset tonight, she mourned
taking another elegant sip of her wine,
spilling a few drops on her white hoody
as she swiped through the Weather Channel.
What she missed while scrolling, she'll never know
and wouldn't understand to begin with.
She chose to miss the sunset.
There was a sunset tonight, I insist.
Perhaps not of the photogenic, 'see it on
a postcard' kind, but still. The breeze freshened
with the sun hiding from her grimace behind
the clouds. The gulls screamed at her in derision.
There is always a sunset. just as there is always
a tomorrow -- until there isn't.
There was a sunset, I continue.
One at the end of another day enjoying
the lake and family. One where the day
winds down to night and the clouds slip
away if you are patient. Then you can
see all the sun hides: far better
than wine, the sky is intoxicating.
There was a sunset, I smile.
The sun did indeed sink beyond today's horizon
and we now carefully pick our way up
the stone bank of the lake depositing
more memories with each step. His arm slips over
my shoulders and we wend our way back to camp.
No matter the sprinkle of rain, it was a beautiful day.