he phenomenon on the 2nd of March Twenty twenty one. The third month hovering in a new year, in a new decade diamond clear.
Clear day, the sunset simmers around seventeen hours, standing aloof beaming woof. The grey clouds strolling echoing yo, yo, yo! Yoyoing calligraphy lines in slow mo.
Light to gradient to dark orange, the colour defeating my orange juice like are you foreal bro? Ones not a scientist or cosmologist to comprehend and utter a sound trying explanation of this.
Me mobile phone camera, snapping a polaroid picture, does not do it justice, oh the injustice.
Keep in sight, mind and feels. The sun in it’s glory in full bloom sitting atop Canary Wharf. Well, it looked like it, chilling and listening to some Bob Marley, Fela Kuti, Cesária Évora, Alfa Mist or something.
A small thing, the eyes to the win. A big thing, captivating thy essence of being.