Purple (Poetry)

These days, I close my eyes and I see purple —
a cloud far-off reflected in the glow
of a future sunset, postcard size — the view
a haze of silhouettes I almost know
but cannot name for now — it is a place
that I will go and stay someday, for there
I’ll find my peace — a sanctuary, a home
where death can find me gazing at a star
or watching for the colour change, alone
and brushing the last poems from my hair.