A Truer Sunset, a poem by John Grey at Spillwords.com
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A Truer Sunset

A Truer Sunset

written by: John Grey


Tonight, we watch the sunset
from the back porch.

This is better than a job.
I would call in sick for this any night.
I would even get sick
if I could always be here
when the rooftops glow rust,
street lamps flicker on,
and everything’s infused
with strange, translucent, light.

I could sit here and not worry
about work or money or in-laws.
Night would never close in.
Day would never return.
It would only ever be now.

You bring out the wine,
pour it into two slim glasses.
We sip but the shadows lengthen.

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