Just beyond the quarry wall
resembling Stonehenge
a molten lava sky is effortlessly
before you
like burning embers
the remains of a lofty fire
a séance for the end of a decade
you tell me
that you never understood God’s artistry
until you witnessed your first Catalina sky
combustible claret-infused mountains
Seeping sanguine
smoldering strokes
This awe-inspiring backdrop
another nightly masterpiece
or an example of
the Romantics’ notion of sublimity
here, across the street from the Connecticut River
I sit at my white bistro patio set
subtly rusting
and imagine you, so small and insignificant
stained with sun’s dusky afterglow
Quietly sitting at yours