In Which I Gloat Over The Riches That Are Mine

Sunset, but which direction is true west?
It must be Saratoga, where you've stopped.
The sky aflame in all directions, best
Observed when slightly sloshed (or if you've dropped
Some ice cream down your cleavage and a lab
Awaits to lick it off -- or both; best not
To be too choosy). Even when it's drab
With just a dozen shades of fire, you've got
To let the awe take over. Such has passed
This day in my hometown, spent with a friend
From far away, who's seeing it new, a cast
Of good old pals alongside. Now I'll spend
A quiet ev'ning by the river. How
I wish you all could be with us right now.