Please don’t make me watch
the sunset fade
The brilliant blues overtaken
by a bruised-lavender, smothering gray
The tangerines rotted to murky puddles
on clouds, transcendent, turned firm and hollow
The roses folded on dusky edges
that filled the sky, now like smoke
that chokes my throat and nose and makes
salty my tongue. My brow
stings with the frown
I once surmised— but now
Reality aches my chest.
I turn away
—Abigail Dustin, Grade 11.