Jeannene Huthmaker Poet I do not know?

Daily Strength and Nightly Weaknesses

I crumble with a setting sun
The colors streak and I come undone
Quiet invades despite cicadas sick
Emerging a year late on a low burnt wick

Colors infect the sky like spilt paint
An early moon visible however faint
Goes looming racing and panting west
I put down my flowers and await the test

I am left to myself, these nightly battles
With each new star my confidence rattles
Once I used to wear the moon about my neck
When I was the sky and she was the speck

My constant blanket, I undo my hair
Split and raw from each nights’ wear
I stand to fight, this will not pass
My naked feet find cool wet grass

I reach in one pocket and pull out my past
And from the other, a future wide and vast
Armed I destroy a black velvet veil 
And slowly but surly the night does pale

I replace my weapons and tie my hair
And watch a sun, both new and rare.

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