I didn’t really believe it was my last
as I watched a sky so orange as to subdue
the harshest skeptic of sundown magic.
But I wondered.
How many people in mortal peril see such sights as they slip away?
Polar explorers perishing under pulsating green northern lights?
Mountaineers admiring the blue tint of the ice as they
plunge inside a crevasse?
There is beauty in this world, I tell you. Beyond me.
After me.
–Alex Joyner
4 responses to “The Last Sunset: Poetry”
Alex, this is nice!
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Thanks, Pam. It came out of a kayaking adventure. Plus Annie Dillard’s perpetual influence on me.
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I love Annie Dillard.
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