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