Yellow sun
for you my
eyes burn.

Sure no more, indeed these days are long.  At risk with the asterik, my smile sinks.  The bulb buzzes beside my bedside, a dim light I see. Playing cards are strewn across my sheets, a black bic pen awaits accord. As the words rest, the mind sleeps, dark is the night.

My finger paints
a clear reflection.

No face but my own,
a mirror still reflects.

Underneath the red
moon, a fire still burns.

Old words recycled, as time transforms, the leaves fall, a broken mirror, reflections of nature, my blue eyes review.  Foxgloves fail to fit.  Outside of time, rolling flower into loaves, a yellow glint, the mirrored tint her sunglasses hide, water is gulped, the pupils follow teachers, a *** of ink and chalk on a board, these days are longer than before.

The land of sand beckons, a single rose appears, pointing toward the sky, red touching blue, small rays of light, sun-bleached time.