As blues turn a tangerine orange,
dusk surrounds each of us with the promise
of another day, soon to peak through
the leaves of this old tree, reaching,
straining, but never able to feel blue.
How small is the tree, as the sun radiates,
warmth engulfing everything with the hope
that the vastness of existence pours through
everything with a purpose that we, reaching,
straining, are never able to understand?
Phillip Knight Scott is a native of Durham, North Carolina, where he lives and writes poetry. A husband and father, he finds happiness in family, friends, reading, and writing. His work has been published in Vita Brevis Press and on his website, phillipkscott.com On twitter @phillipscott.
Selected by the editor as a featured submission, June 2020
Originally posted on the site: 30/08/2019