Sunset

How does no one else on this train
notice the sunset?

Distant sighs of cloud are
ignited by orange and pink
reflections of descent,

framed in those purple coughs,

loosely spherical and stretching

across the rest of the sky.

A beautiful window of deep scarlet

lays horizontal below

the ignited sighs, below

the loosely spherical coughs.

The scarlet window is the bated breath

ready for dusk to give way to darkness,

and it's only visible when the

vegetation-silhouettes prostrate themselves

to allow precious glimpses,

as the day happily bleeds out,

draining colour steadily down

behind the horizon,

which loses its definition to

different shades of blackness.

Written 29/10/12 on the train from London to Edinburgh.