Concert day, time to leave the house.

All music in hand.

Dress shoes, stand light, extra ties

If I could make it to the church quickly,

I will get my quiet time before it starts to fill with anticipatory excitement

hurry, hurry, hurry.

Running to be still.

And, whamo.

There it was, to stop me in my tracks.

The clouds unfolding on the horizon of homes,

sunset coloured rays bursting through the rippled clouds

The basketball hoop, silhouetted against the painted scene

Dad and Mom bought that hoop for the boys.

A breathtaking sunset.

Deep red, dark orange, floating yellow

Through the backdrop of your favourite sport.

 

You used to love to stand in your back yard,

when your were done inspecting the tomato plants,

watching the Winnipeg clouds unfold through the reds and oranges and yellows,

the smoke from your cigarette picking up the rays

 

Perhaps love of sunsets is an inherited trait,

for I find them soothing. Intoxicating.

I wonder what conversations we may have had

if I had joined you out there. I am not a smoker,

it never dawned on me to go and interrupt your quiet time.

 

Today, I stop for a moment before I get into the van

Take a deep breath, capture the scene on my phone

realize it must be a visit from you,

wishing me well for a concert that you very likely would have come to.

A hello, I am still here, from my Dad.

Deep reds, dark oranges, floating yellow.