Before The Sun's Pieces
Before the sun's pieces,
Shine on brim's, coffee mug;
And with my prepping airs—
It's all jeopardy to
Roll frost in bed somewhere.
Before the sun's pieces,
Rain in a golden chain.
I pine at streaked window.
How bitter is the fog
From where night morn dreams go.
Before the sun's pieces,
Ice below the outside,
In a bristling gesture—
God, now I see in you
Past my bleak reflections.
Before the sun's pieces,
While dawn is watched by moon,
Sun has the grace to gleam—
He'll come in the long fade,
For his Moon maiden, seen.
Copyright © Paige Hind | Year Posted 2024
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