I’ve lived a few shocking twilights

but the one to which I keep returning

settled in one early autumn evening at college

as the day departed a luminous yellow

faded to an orange-creamsicle glow

that lingered long enough

to draw neighbors out on porches and

onto sidewalks, cocking heads,

quizzical, stoned by atmospheric buzz,

contemplating if the world may be

on the brink of some Seussian surprise—

if only something rhymed with orange.

 

I went out there too,

abandoning steaming ramen noodles

to look skyward

and sigh and sigh.

Then I turned to see

this 30-something woman walking my way

hips softly swaying

against the hug of a sleeveless white dress

keeping rhythm to the soothing

clip-clop of sandaled tan feet.

Her flowing chestnut hair gleamed

with luster of polished copper

and all that rare fleeting light

illuminated her lovely face—

mesmerizing.

If ever a moment screamed

for a Shakesperean sonnet…

But knowing none

I almost said instead

“Excuse me, don’t take this wrong,

but I have to say

you are utterly ablaze with beauty,”

if only so she would know

unequivocally

that in that instant

she had stopped time cold

and affirmed existence

of a higher power.

 

Of course, I said nothing

but as she passed

we smiled

our eyes holding gaze

a nanosecond longer

than the pervading norm

of that town at that time—

long enough for me gain

a love of a lifetime

and for her to understand

and thank me

silently and sincerely

for such a sweet compliment.