A Sunset Poem

Each sunset is a different story,

a different feeling, a different memory.

Sometimes the orange reflects off the blue,

sometimes the red paints a burning hue.

One reminds me of a memory distant,

the other brims my anger in an instant.

First comes sadness, second comes joy,

third comes fire, the fourth is a decoy.

Round and round, forward and backward,

through thick and thin, my life goes onward.

But my spirit is stuck in each sunset I witness,

for sunsets tell me that changes needn't be a mess.