Poems & Short stories

The Sunset (a short story)

It was the start of the sunset, when the sun started to slowly sink behind the big buildings of down town. From a distance all you would see is a silhouette of rectangles with a pink, purple golden background as the sun slowly sank down.

 The birds hurry to power lines and trees to turn in and be safe before it is completely dark. The city lights start to turn on and with all the traffic and signs, moving colorful lights from a far distance would look like a fun carnival.

 Moms and Dads are making their way home to be with the rest of their family. Though the sun has taken it's time leaving this part of the earth it seemed to get darker faster. As if the darkness was trying to push the sun out of its way, so the darkness will have its turn.

 With the night fall comes darker shadow's slowly creeping upon the unlighted areas of back alleys and vacant streets, small neighborhoods where each street has only one street lamp. With the shadows come people who lurk with in the shelter that they provide. Chaos and ma ham come with darkness, and it's best to stay inside. But to me, that's not all the darkness and its shadows bring.

To me, I see the stars that peek out of the black sky that seems endless at night. I feel the cool breeze it brings; to cool off the sun bathed ground, and plants. It brings us a new morning to look forward to. And to bats, crickets, and fireflies, the night is a bright day to them. The moon is more beautiful than the blurred carnival of lights down town.

 It doesn't shine like the shiny lights on the signs, it doesn't flash rapidly while changing colors. Instead, it glows a peaceful white with all its stars that twinkle. Something about that big circle in the sky that glows every night, except for the new moon, makes me feel safe, and lets me smile. It gives me a resin to lift my head to the sky and let my eyes gaze at the stars and endless miles in the air. And I watch the bats that chase little flying bugs, and the fireflies that mimic the stars in the sky, but never get as close to the real thing.

 And no bug or manmade light can be as comforting as that moon in the sky. No wonder the wild wolfs everywhere around the world sing it a song every night.