Midnight Sepulcher
Twilight tickles the moonlit canopy,
Where stars poke holes in the parchment sky,
And darkness slips into entropy,
As the Earth rounds the morning nigh.
The sun refracts what light it's given up,
To the moon who ricochets its gift,
And the planets before the belt lineup,
To cause a cosmic shift.
This is the midnight sepulcher,
In which our minds spelunk,
Into a cavernous awoken sepulture,
As into dreams we've dunk.
Copyright © B. Joseph Fitzsimons | Year Posted 2017
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