That the faintest light blares a spectra
of peach, lavender, and lemon
with an abeyance of smoke, stark white
would awaken a dizzy dozen
Just two hours ago they were of
intoxicated madness
eyes burned by the dancing sea of salt, the moving stars of dust
by loud, blistering laughs, forgetful kisses
(under the haloed crystal ball)
now, it peeps, the faint light
hiding but ready to shine, ready to die
but why chase it at the process of
its rise and fall
when at noon, the dozen cowers,
detests its scorching gall
That attention is paid to this beginning and end
one blink, then the dozen looks away
for the light has revealed the sand on their knees
for the darkness has left them hanging, searching
for a faint light to chase, then bypass all day