West at Sunset

Looking west at sunset
One can see a brilliant yolk
Spilling out of the sky, running
Over everything; gold glistened
Leaves etched in light, and a dying blue
Who knows not to overstay its welcome.
One can see shadows
Stretch toward you, reaching
To pass you up, to swallow you whole.
A sun at sunset is like no other,
The blazing bronze-gold, the soft orange-butter
Melting into trees and clouds, melting
Into the eyes. Truth has never seemed so bright
As in the west, has never been so brief
As in the moments of passing light
When the earth rises to please us, to show
Us that we are not so static, not so
Stoic as to remain immobile in a time
Of such silent, swooning melodies.