Chasing Vermillion

I caught the sky blushing, vermillion and gold,

a paint tube forgotten, the magic of old.

Colors once vivid now hidden away,

remind me of sunsets, of wanting to stay.

The bus stop’s a canvas, the world brushes past,

while memories swirl like leaves in a cast.

Each shade holds a story, some lost, some real,

and I chase after colors that I want to feel.