Reflections on a Sunset walking to Newlyn               

Over the horizon you could believe

That there’s a bonfire.

Halation high into winter-bright sky

Storm-washed by torrents of hail, of rain,

And clarified by thunder.

Against a peach, now rose, now a lilac palette,

More vibrant than just mauve,

The tree trimmed brow of Newlyn hill,

Silhouetted, stands frilled

Indigo then charcoal.

And, at my back, across the bay,

On sky a muted hue

Not dove, nor grey nor blue

Two powder-puffs of pink

Dot soft smudges.

While at Marazion, castle mullion

Or cottage pane, each window,

Coincidentally, without exception,

Displays the vermillion glow

Of candle light.

Steph Haxton Jan 7th 2014