Salmon Skies, or The Time Between
There’s a poem that I’ve been writing for months and have never been able to finish.
The poem is entitled ‘salmon skies,’ referring to those moments at sunrise and sunset when the sky is salmon pink, caught between day and night. The metaphor is for those moments in my life when I have been neither up nor down, but caught in the middle – able to think and reason rationally without buzzing away and losing focus or having to force myself to make it in the first place.
For the first time in a long time, I seem to have found focus.
Salmon skies have always been my favourite part of day. Whether it’s sunrise or sunset, I find myself drawn to the impermanent beauty of those precious few minutes.
Suddenly I feel like I’m living in a sunset. It’s not too hot, it’s not too cold, the sky is a beautiful colour that never remains quite the same, but is caught on the edge of change for hours and hours and days and days, and I just want to cry with how wonderful it is.
And then I realise that there’s nothing stopping me. And, just for a moment, I let myself revel.
But there are things to do, and people to see, and a life to live in a way I didn’t realise I wanted to be possible, and I go on living.
And it’s fucking fantastic.