Poetry 164: The Western Sun

The Western Sun

It glows in glorious golden yellow
Just above the deep blue horizon
Its heat doesn’t scorch or burn
Or fry or bake like an oven

It releases a certain magic
That makes your skin brim with power
And gives you a kind of confidence
An energy only you can decipher

It sucks you in like a black hole
And pulls you into its magnetic might
Fueling your lust, your hunger, your thirst
Showering you with splendor and light

Is there something in the sky?
Is it the way the clouds are formed?
Is there something in the air?
Is it the way your heart is churned?

Is it the way the palm trees sway?
They seem to dance, smile, and glitter
Is it the way the cars rub up against each other
Or the sunset that hints blood is thicker than water?

-AAS

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