Amtrak 3

Strange how the color drains nearly empty from the morning sky before the tangerine sun even peeks above the lavender-purplish horizon….

Akin to how the color also drains as the sun sets on a much darker violet-purplish horizon after the brilliance, the dazzling fruit punch display, before the blood red star bows goodbye.

Throughout the dewy dawn colors slowly feeling their nimble way across the thinly lined clouds stretched overhead, blues burst.

Classic sky blues contrast vividly with the crimson, turquoise stratospheric blues markedly scar the vermillion, the ruby over the last ridge pecks at the snow glaciers on a deep chocolate peak whose tips puncture half the vista in the viewing car windows.

Now a peach sun paints the red earth and tan scrub in a warmth that heats up lovers’ pleas for one another to please come closer, yet that tangerine sun could not quite catch the sliver of a moon and so a celestial love affair thwarts future attempts evermore.

Some sympathize little with the ill-fated chasing of sun and moon and instead wrap themselves in cloaks of disregard, irreverently dotted with stars.