Sunset
All day the clouds looked white to me.
Right now, they’re looking pink
And purple, which is pretty, but
I don’t know what to think.
Were the clouds pink and purple all
Along, when they looked white?
Or do they turn more colorful
As day turns into night?
How could a white cloud dress itself
In glowing shades of pink
And purple? Does it fill up with
Some kind of paint or ink?
Mommy and Daddy tell me it’s
The angle of sunlight
Shining on the clouds that makes them
Purple or pink or white.
I’m not sure I understand,
But I like it that the sun
Can give the clouds a lot of different
Colors, not just one.
Right now, they’re looking pink
And purple, which is pretty, but
I don’t know what to think.
Were the clouds pink and purple all
Along, when they looked white?
Or do they turn more colorful
As day turns into night?
How could a white cloud dress itself
In glowing shades of pink
And purple? Does it fill up with
Some kind of paint or ink?
Mommy and Daddy tell me it’s
The angle of sunlight
Shining on the clouds that makes them
Purple or pink or white.
I’m not sure I understand,
But I like it that the sun
Can give the clouds a lot of different
Colors, not just one.
This poem is copyright (©) Chris OCarroll 2024
About the Writer
Chris OCarroll
Chris O'Carroll, author of the poetry collections The Joke’s on Me and Abracadabratude, is a Light magazine featured poet whose work has also appeared in New York City Haiku, The Great American Wise Ass Poetry Anthology and several volumes of the Potcake Chapbook series.