The Sunset
A poem by Paul Pizzolo

The Sunset

Sitting out on my balcony
180 degrees of bay
I'm lost for words
what can I say?

All the different colours
Shed tears to my eyes
Because darkest will approach
And again it will rise.

Painters depict their illusions
Paradise in the sun
The beach is my home
Where I hide and run.

Planets revolve around it
A rainbow in the sky
My ashes will be spread on the beach
when I precisely die.

It is not only the warmth
That the sun provides me
It tells me the time
The direction it may be.

The sun is a friend
And it never turns on us.
In summertime at the beach
This is a must.