Concrete on pastels.

Light refuses

To fade

Behind the mountain,

Erected on

The distance

Like a facade.

Colors dull

To greyed hues,

Not quite

Losing tone

As losing


Quiet colors

Besiege this

Silent shell

Of a home

As night


And day


Dull thuds

In the distance,

The sound

Of footsteps.

A door


Colors return,

Life begins


The shell

Is full,

But whispers


Still fearing

The night

And all

It may hold.

Composed 06/13/12

Author’s Note: The sky is so clear here on most days, that it always makes for stunning sunsets, as if they stretch on for infinite. I don’t have any sunset pictures from a village or clearing, so this one from my apartment will make do. It’s still quite enthralling.

Previous Posts

Almost Winter (Poetry)

First Hair Cutting Ceremony (Prose)

Next Posts

Campaign (Poetry)

Comrades (Prose)


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.