it was late, around 8.

but the sun was just below the horizon. or hiding behind the trees.

and the pink light was streaming up over the sky, meeting me.

us, if you had been there.

and the clouds were softly outlined.

no hard edges at all.

first i saw a face, made of clouds.

then i followed the trail of pink to my right.

our right, if you had been there.

and there was a dancer up there.

made of clouds.

in the sky.

she was stretched out, standing on one leg, her other leg pointing out behind her.

if you had been there i would have pointed her out.

i would have rolled down the window and we would have smelled wood chips from the restaurant down the street cooking.

the music i would have turned down slightly.

and i would have wanted to hold your hand.

but now.

now you are still not here.

not with me.

so i am going to change that.

watch.