Sonnet At 8:10 P.M. By Nate Metz

Sonnet At 8:10 P.M.

The effect of perspective, like how the sunset is really
A funeral; the lowering of the sun like a blazing 
Casket, the sky the pallbearer, and we the stars’ third cousins 
Twice-removed with only vague memories
Of the departed: why else do we don 
The same black at close of day
But to mourn politely into the night? Or how the sunset is really
An offering from God; a golden reward for enduring,
Like orange roses gifted after the actor’s gritty display
In the day’s play. Or how the sunset isn’t really
Anything at all but routine, meaningless, 
the machine-like order operating beyond and without us.
Or how the sunset is really just the painting you and I encounter 
At the museum and study honestly, admiring the art without ever truly
                                                                 understanding it.

Nate Metz is an undergraduate writer attending Santa Clara University. He has previously been published in SCU’s The Owl (forthcoming) and won first prize in the Shipsey Poetry Prize. As an avid reader and writer of poetry, he sees poetry as a sincere means for self-expression and a critical way to explore our shared humanity.

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