The sun bleeds upwards.

If I could not see
I’d miss the bare black branches
Against dim burgundy.

Trees nod  heads gently
Accepting night fall and   moon
Neon  light, vulgar

Dark blue,plum, soft grey
The sun dies bleeding , upwards.
As it sinks to darkness

Would I notice skies
If I wasn’t alone searching?
I found more wool gloves

I found wrist  warmers
It is no longer  freezing cold
But no bikinis

Darker and darker
Now the branches join the sky
All  plum velvet deep