This eve, or penultimate day
before the winter solstice,
I captured the setting sun
with my sight while on the 7
And the looming buildings
of Manhattan were black as pitch;
the sun was golden,
cutting through the matter
As we rode by on the elevated train,
I thought I would never see
this light ever again this winter,
but it was all mine, for a moment, again…
I see you standing close,
watching the dying light with me,
even when, like the dark, faraway figures
were also just a dream
When we weren’t dying,
we were free, after the snow
& the coldness would show
off all traces of crying
I was stronger then, before you.
I am still strong, even when I do remember you,
& while this is my most favorite
part of the day,
the sunset does reminds me of you.