Sunset

I went to see "20 steps from Stardom" last night.  It's a wonderful film about the great backup singers, Darlene Love, Merry Clayton, Lisa Fischer, who worked with everyone who was anyone.  After the movie, the other women in my book group and I stood on the steps of the theater chatting with friends, joking about being singers, and about needing the right outfits for the job. 
On the way home, this came to mind.

Sunset

In the blaze of sunset,
Walking home from a movie about
incandescent singers,
Darlene Love,
Merry Clayton,
Lisa Fischer.

"could have beens"
pile like thunderheads in the west.

Self pitying, I think
"I am too old."
When were poetry,
music,
art,
put away like that silk outfit
from Thailand
that no longer fits.

"I will never sing toe to toe
with Mick Jagger"

Then, as I watch,
the sun
blazes against the thunderheads,
shooting them with molten gold, with fire.

In the hours of my life's day
it is sunset.
And only myself to blame
if all I see are the might have been
clouds.

Strangers
passing on the sidewalk
hear my song 
to the molten clouds.
"the night is young!"