I wonder sometimes
If the night sky is purple, not black.
Maybe it’s just city street lights
Reflecting on a dark blank canvas.
Orange, paving the road to the graveyard.
The only spot of blackness
Where there is no purple sky.
A cemetery where light can never shine,
Where every bulb descends and smashes.
In my home, miles away
I cannot see our graveyard so easily
The haunted land is far from fragile sight.
A cemetery just on the border of the town
Where concrete fades into relief and air.
No purple sky, not at all
Above the place we all go when we leave –
Home like so many before us.
No purple sky, just blackness
As so many of our lights have dimmed.
So now I stand on a balcony
In a home away from home.
To admire a purple sky and
Try to forget why it is so unfamiliar.