Poetry

Purple

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.

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2 thoughts on “Purple

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