Tonight the sky is yours. br I dedicate it to you in all its awe. br It’s so colourful, a promise br of things to come perhaps, br or the glory of our brief past. br Summer has flapped her merry br wings towards this August sky br and I remember how we stood br hand in hand under a sky so br similar of orange and violet and br a hint of fading blue in the land br of Gaelic in the distant west. br The birds fly with ease tonight br as if they know what I know. br And they want to praise you. br Towards those momentous br mountains is where they seem br to drift, to the exact place br where the mountaintops silhouette br hug this opulent orange dusk. br This painter's nightfall has br caught my propitious eyes. br The streamish purple clouds br are only too happy to be the br pinnacle of your memory – br almost as if it actually is br the pinnacle – the very end. br Is this earth urging such closure? br I think of you, even though br we are lands apart and I know br that I will not see you again. br So this is it, my dear. Please br watch carefully as I paint br the final picture on the canvas br of our love. Hold your eyes br to our sky as the colour fades br and the sun sinks one last time. br Yes, even the mighty sun needs br closure, even the birds must return br to the nest at night for shelter, br even the leaves must tumble br and fall to be one day reborn. br I think that you are looking br at this sky now, outside of br regular daily monotony br and you can see the picture br which I have painted for you.