Bring me the sunset in a cup

 

600-st-johns-sunset

Bring me the sunset in a cup

Fill it just to the brim

Blow a mild breeze from soft lips

To stir the close of day within.

Hold it to me

Don’t let me take it yet

Hold it just far enough to ache my melancholy

And close enough my swelling peace to set.

Let my fingers circle the cup’s zero

As sunset seeps through my stance

And shifts, grows and ignores the confines

Of my presumptuous arrogance.

To think I actually thought me capable

Of stuffing sunset in a space

Of corralling, of confining, of controlling

The uncontrollable in my lame embrace.

But one can dream, can she not?

And, if dreaming, why not dream grand?

Create, carve, mold and colour a world

That gifts sunsets in one’s hands.

© March 2017

 

 

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