This is a poem by Manuél

Watching the Sunset

Watching the sunset,

the golden hour arrives—

another memory

written into the day.

I breathe.

One, two, three.

I exhale.

One, two, three.

Gold, orange, gray, and white

paint themselves across the sky,

clouds drifting softly

around the fading sun.

And for a moment,

I am mesmerized.

Today may be ending,

but tomorrow

is another beginning.

A reset.

A refresh.

Another chance

to rise again.

I breathe.

One, two, three.

I exhale.

One, two, three.

Through the smallest openings

in the clouds,

light still finds a way

to shine through.

And ...