# Basic Sunset The sun is going down behind the hill. A few clouds gather, pink and gold. The sky grows soft. The air grows cool. The birds fly home to rest. The day is ending, slow and still. The light turns red, then turns to gold. The world grows quiet. Shadows fall. The stars begin to show. The sun has set behind the hill. The sky is dark, the day is old. The night arrives, so calm and cool. All things at last find rest.

You never taught me to forget you,
even though in your hands
I learned how the wind itself whispers.

You didn't prepare me
for emptiness, for silence, for oblivion.

You didn't explain to me
how yellow holds its breath
when the old words turn stained.

No, you didn't teach me to forget you,
and when the sun bleeds into
red sunsets, the pulse slips from my hands.

Silence sketches you in the nostalgia
of who I am, tracing my way through mistakes.