Late afternoon staringmountain-sunsetover mountains
beyond sunset
reddish streaks across graying clouds
like hair
shimmering, tossed by the wind
framing dusk in easy harmony

There is the screaming,
“What the hell is wrong with you?
“You never understand?”
“You’re incredible, just incredible!”

There is grief in knowing
the collapse of clouds
fading into the darkness
of a coy smile

A small bird, a chickadee perhaps
or a nuthatch, upside down
is telling of casual secrets
being stored within a gentle wind

If I were a pilot
I would die flying
forever into that sunset
penetrating your eyes

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