There would be no place for the cowboy to ride off into.

Our eyes would look up much less.

The clouds would weep, for who would display their grandeur? Who would highlight their ballroom gowns, their sparkling jewels? How would they practice their evening dance with no majestic illumination?

There would be one less activity in this world completely outside of ourselves.

There would be fewer paintings, fewer sculptures and fewer kisses.

No longer would mortals position their dwellings so back porches face west.

Gone would be that event that knows no prejudice, shows no favoritism, asks no price and no two shows are the same.

We would never again experience the presence of Queenly Orange and the members of her court; the passion of purple inciting the same in us, renegade red shooting across the sky, masseur yellow dispelling her nemesis, stress, while ubiquitous blue embraces us all.

Our troubles would not subside behind the horizon.

Words such as “stupendous”, “magnificent” and “glorious” may never have entered the English vocabulary.

Her hair would glisten less as the geese fly overhead.

We might lose our sense of rhythm. And “The Blues” may never have been.

Life would be smaller.

We would be a poorer people.

By the way, did you see the sunset yesterday?