Waiting For the Sun

Sun follows a path blistered with clouds Pillow soft, cotton white, shredded ghosts Hung like magic in the sky Cut by golden light, evaporated into day Rounding out life the sun comes full circle With weight, becomes too much Plunged into darkness Sooner or later to set on us No particular design to find tranquility It goes on and takes us with it Gravity works that way Even from a distance Each orbit takes a turn