Every day, the sun sets
you noticed?
in a great, glorious performance
of wraparound scenic splendour
as if it were the last day of the world
(we'd sue)
and all around the world
poets who've been chewing on their pencils all day
or gazing steamy-eyed at an empty screen
without as we poets say, the Muse whispering
an ode we're owed
as poets
wonder if it could be one last chance
to write the ultimate sunset poem
to get something down today
and justify our existence beyond existing
noting that at sunset
the red flowers in the garden glow so intensely
that you can feel it on your eyeballs
and the sunlight just when the sun disappears
lights up the whole landscape like a floodlight
on the stage set of our lives
that sort of stuff
then next morning the sun
rises on our ultimate sunset poem
and later sets