I feel the sunset, and at once, I am elated. I try to capture the feeling as a screensaver, But as soon as I snap the scene, The moment is gone and the memory dead. I lose the sunset in a photograph To the phone warm in my pocket. Although it captures the watercolour horizon, Spilling into darkness, I feel more. From within the train, witness How cyan wrestles the sun, Kicking up blackening clouds, While trees intersperse the view. Every second, the sky darkens - the day retreats in defeat - Into the haze of the dripping sunset, Taking that feeling with it, a hostage. Now all that remains are these hands, Desperate and cold, fighting the phone. Knowing that those that see My story will never know these feelings.
The poem was inspired by this badly taken photo of a sunset on a train ride home. At the time, it was a mesmerizing sight to behold, but its beauty was beyond my skill with technology to capture it. The poem, then, is me trying to salvage those feelings in a few stanzas. What can I say: nature escapes us all. We can only witness it in a moment that fades with the experience.