It's May, But It Feels Like October

Sitting in my sister's kitchen
while Van Morrison sings about
some brown eyed girl
over the small countertop radio,
and I stare through the windows
at peace.

Poetry peace, whiskey, family,
and that's all that matter's in these mountains,
then I realize I have been writing
about mountains or the word 'mountains'
too much lately,
so I decide to write about sunsets,
the sunset.

The sunset is painted behind
layers of water color mixed mountains
and I love all the skinny hipster girls
here in Denver
walking the street
and serving me beer.

too many mountains
and time,
knockout roses
and a single afternoon turned ten.