how long do you wait for a sunset?

it settles on the horizon
sometimes vibrant shooting deep hues 
fire and ember and flame
or
forgotten tea that has steeped too long
sitting in the sun.

often, it is pastel,
soft,
the clouds metering its pass,
soft,
less...momentous
nontheless a comfort.

but how long do you watch it?

until the green flash,
a wives’ tale...that is,
unless
you’ve seen it
of course.

do you wait until the globe has surpassed the horizon?

so many tourists do, those coastal critters.
spending just enough time,
just enough,
for their flash.
not the green one, the camera one.
their teeth match their clothes
all dressed in white
with kisses of sun on skin.

do you depart once it departs?

joining the turned backs and
children racing ahead and
wagons pulling cargo.
nature’s sign of night
also your sign.

or do you let it linger?

as color turns to hue
and the blue leaks in,
eating the sky from above your head
as you stand,
westbound.

do you stay for the drama of it all?

to be the last one
to be mysterious
and dreamy.
to leave footprints even though
they wash away
with the
tide.

do you stay because you think someone’s watching you?

wanting the same,
that same romance,
mystery,
dreaminess.

do you wait because you feel there’s something to it?

something more.
because you want it back a bit,
even though it can’t return.

i’ve watched thousands of sunsets and
at one point,
i had the audacity to say
“i’m just so tired of sunsets”
out loud.

“but each one is different” you said.
i’ve heard that before, 
i know. 

but each one i watch is not always a gift for the soul.
it takes from me, it takes my light.

beauty becomes nostalgia
becomes memory
becomes loneliness.
i feel sadness.
i miss home.
i miss love.
i miss friendship.
i miss him.
i miss me.
the old me.

but i can’t sit for long
waiting for her to come back.
she won’t.
she can’t.

so, how long do i stay?