Sundown

I took tea outside

To contemplate life’s sighs

Alone but not quite

Golden hour, softened 

Sky painted blues and purples 

A swathe of orange

How many colours

Should I boldly try on me

Can I stick to one

Little terrors come

Day, night, any time

Sometimes I squash, sometimes they 

Sweet evening breeze

Rustles my mother’s flowers

Then they spring up again

I drink my tea hot

Shiver in the breeze 

Evening air around me