- Post By: Jason Santo
- Date:
- Category: Uncategorized
- Tags: clouds, dusk, poem, poetry, portsmouthnh, sky, sun, sunset, whatifindinparkinglots, writer, writing
Sometimes it seems like the Earth is dying, forcing the unobservant to arrest little concerns and stare, slack-jawed into moments that won’t happen again. Every second a snowflake disappearing on the tongue of our hurry, tasted chill vanished, faded and yet distinct if you distill her down to that finite sting. Yet we swallow, breath hot wishes and quake at the collision of our horizon with fingerprint moments melting at first contact; the inferno of our ideals and missions engulfing paper dawns, igneous dusks. Glowing as suns would in their final moments, the cold soon – always too soon – and standing watch over a world’s breathing reminds that there is beauty in decay; blossoming during that final stretch where the light flees body and the soul is unleashed to forever night. #poem #poetry #sky #dusk #clouds #sunset #sun #whatifindinparkinglots #portsmouthnh #writer #writing (at Seconds Dying)