By the ocean or in the countryside,
Over the cooling beach or field or park,
I yearn for the spectacle of sunset
But, all too often, it hides its last light
Under the city’s towering clutter,
Whilst the dusk silently draws around me
Night’s cold, dreary shroud of darkness and death.
Thus, I can never truly love the dusk;
Only the beauty of its lexicon:
The penumbral fade of light to darkness,
By way of eventide - or the gloaming,
Or twilight - as the nocturne’s minor chords
Whisperingly process into nightfall.
(C. IGR 2013)
After a fallow period
of about six months without a poem, this came fading in over an hour or so like
a welcome dawn. I didn’t realise that it would be a blank verse sonnet until
all the lines had appeared in order, only needing the slightest tweaking. Such
is the way it goes: you wait half an hour for a bus etc.
I was trying to think
of a title when ‘sunfall’ suddenly occurred to me. Having never come across it
before, I wondered if I’d coined a new word. Thirty seconds later, following an
investigation via a well-known search engine, I realised I hadn’t. A case of nothing
new under the sun, then...
The picture was taken one evening in Corralejo town in Fuerteventuera last summer.
The picture was taken one evening in Corralejo town in Fuerteventuera last summer.
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