An Immortal Demise

Streaks of light in splendid symmetry, Carefully crocheted clouds, A tailor-made semicircle. A stolen moment. My eyes fixated on the fiery blaze under its veil, A blood orange kiss on every blue cloud’s tip. He slips with every tug at the cord, As the silvered moon rose on her smoky sled Heavy clouds drag themselves, mourning along the sodden cold night... Until the dimmed stars gleamed into spotlight. As though a Japanese fan, The spine tingling sky has folded itself into the night. Winter or summer, dusk always sheds a lingering iciness behind: Didn’t today just die?