Pink

As the pastel pink sun

becomes one with the sky dust,

minty sea breeze

lifts dried pink bougainvilleas

and caresses my curls.

Aspirations look for another chance.

Wait! O crimson light, wait…

just until I compose my stance!

But the glow vanished at his own time.

And before the crescent moon

wore his pale pink moods,

I realized a melancholic moment

on the night’s star studded curtain.

Wish I could relive a fragment of yesterday…

: : Scribbled in the quiet pleasure of watching
 the sunset from the terrace...