And all your friends they
ride into the sunset
fly into the sunset
and away they’re thrown
into the fire…
A little sound or song breathes soft right here
within the crimson fallings of the day.
We’ll listen close and bend a thoughtful ear
to see how the horizon hums her sway.
With silver-slivered stripes she bids us come
to watch the dance of sky that fades to sea.
All tangerine and tawny, day is done,
with nothing left to wish or will or be.
Hold still, her sphere’s a lozenge on your tongue
that melts into a swirl of sorrow, hope.
The day’s been spilled, but oh, the night is young
as twilight turns her moon kaleidoscope.
She sighs the day’s goodbye with one last kiss,
vermillion, violet, violent in its bliss.
Poetic Asides November Chapbook Challenge, day 14.