The night air’s cold hand
reaches down and pulls my breath
in shards from my chest.
Crimson clouds hang low.
The day’s embers glow softly,
burning down to dusk.
The past is a guide;
A companion who leads you
Into the future
Drops of falling rain,
Waiting, outstretched tongue.
Desperately seeking my
I go to freeze on dark tides
I wake before three.
for another’s riches
Waves, softly lapping
Dappled light wanders.
Across the lush, verdant grass
Howling in a rage. Screaming, I vent my anger, Then fall silent, spent.
A vortex of blue flame howling in the furnace as I gather glass.
The sun has risen and shone its warmth on my face for the final time.
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