Whiles I Imbibe

The sun is not down,
And I am imbibing.

It shines hotly,
Through my sunglasses,
And stains my jet black t-shirt.

I am waiting for it to set,
Whiles I imbibe.

Sweat beads upon my leaking forehead,
Moistening my mayhem

No uneasiness bothers me this day,
I am content,
To sit here,
And petrify,
As I await the sun's classic demise,
Noble and beatific,
Inside the day's end.

Looking outside,
At a glance,
As I write,
I glimpse,
The premonition of evening.

Sprinting,
Fearing to miss,
The hearty sunset,
I see the sun,
Behind a cloud's horizon,
And chuckle,
At the false alarm.

I've hours yet,
Whiles I imbibe,
Before it takes to dirt shelter.