actuallydáel

The sunset over the plateau as seen from my train.

The sleepy faces look through their windows towards the sun that hides behind the gullies of the south.

We circulate through wavy tracks like a boat drifting perpendicular to the tide in the lands of Albacete.

The orangish color submerges in the blue, characteristic of a winter afternoon.

Light clouds cover the landscape shaped by the few and strong torrential southern downpours.

We travel as if we were in a rocket through fields, soaring through galactic shrubbery under the late afternoon here.

The town of Hellín bathes in that orange light and seeps through the buildings until it reaches the station.

The sun hides. The sun tonight is kept in Hellín. The afternoon dies in the hills of the surface runoff landscape.

There's only a few rosey tints in the celestial clouds now, camouflaged with the rest of the skies.

The silhouettes of the electric lines, the old factories in ruins, delineated with the little light from the star, today the treasure of Hellín.

There are places that distance hides, but that the Sun will always illuminate.

#poetry #odes