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.