December Flash Poem

It's 4pm and already the sun is setting
the pale blue of the sky streaked with pink
like layers of watercolour washes.
The trees cast no shadows.

Soon it is completely dark
and only a few pinpricks of light are visible
from a house in the distance.

I witness this from my desk by the window
layers of clothing keep me warm.
The hum of the computer the only sound.

I am trying to write
but the words won't come.