Before the End
He is an earthy fool of morning—
makes the uphill trek of five leagues
and gathers anemones.
He is a fiery child of dusk—
arrives in the quietness beyond fatigue
and knocks at the door.
She is a flighty girl of night—
wears an anemone in her hair
and opens the door.
It is a deranged river of dawn
breaks the shackles that tamed it once
and rears its hood to strike.
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