Unseasonable warmth,
a more agitated sunset,
or maybe it wasn’t–
anything can be anything, now.
Say it’s eighty out,
say it snowed,
say it’s for our good
and temporary
as if this
has never
happened before–
and I will say
that this sky is pink
and orange
as ripe citrus,
this breeze bitter
as pith, this wind
unsettled, this night
falling harder,
the way a fist does, or
a downpour, or
a spring-loaded door
OPTIONAL POETRY 
People whose tendency is to do the right thing are rarely preoccupied by someone else’s orders. Keep on.
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This is powerful. A good Poem. Thank you again for sharing. -Sam.
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