"When the mind is at peace, the world too is at peace."
- Layman P’ang

home
about
poetry
poem of the moment  
other poems  
Walkabout  
Poemcards™  
schedule
reflections
community


  poetry:
other poems

 
 
Select a poem:

Beyond Badges and Barbed Wire
 
Baklava
 
River Run
 
Perfect Pen
 
Red Ride
 
Raven Heart
 
That Wild Thing
 
Tsunami
 
August 4th
 
Urban Spring
 
Yellow Canyons
 
Edge of the World
 
Silver Weaver
 
Grace
 

 
Sunset Trail 
Sunset Trail.
That’s the name of what I call
The Butt Burner.
A trail that circles you up towards
The sky and then
Opens its arms wide
To the metropolis below.
It’s an eagle’s view
Atop the rocky road.
Tonight I bowed to the 
True Name. The SUNSET trail.

My walk began with lead legs,
A pumping heart, and the thought,
Each step felt like I had 20 pound sand
Bags tied to my feet and my heart
Beat like it was trying to come out
Of my chest. I slogged up the hill,
Like an old dog with a mission, turning
Occasionally to catch the onset of
The blushing sky.
City lights flickered as dusk
Settled in. I mushed on, more like 
A sleigh dog in Alaska pulling
Weight. So far, the only thing
Taking my breath away was my
Lack of recent cardio vascular
Activity. 

When I crested the hill there was 
Nothing to do but rest. Rest and wait
For my heart to slow, my breath to
Regulate. As I rested the blushing sky
Deepened into simmering orange
And pinks. The city lights began
To glitter like gems. 
I started down the hill and the
Sky transformed
Like a 13 year old girl turning into
A stunning young woman.
Just when I thought
The beauty too much to bear
She turned into a hot lover, steamy and
Passionate, the sky blazed red,
Yellow and orange streaks across it.
City gems sparkled like fine diamonds.
I stopped.

Sunset. There is no 
“I’ll catch this later.” 
No. It’s now or never.
Watch me now or never.
I sat on a rock and watched.
The whole dance.
The sky on
Fire, blazing. Passion melting
The city below. It was almost
Unbearable.

And then it was over.
The sky settled into deep
Dusk. 
Grey blue.
Nighttime arrived.
Over. Done.
Stunning.

 Diane Sherman   /   February 2008