we see the gold’s of a shimmering
sun fall on the horizon, the last of
day, leaving trails of hummingbirds.

the sky begins to mourn the last
of light, scattering breeze-like
in a cloud of dark ink.

the moon pours pearls into cloud
widens her eyes; the dark gathers
the pearls, softening like dream.

thick honeysuckle traces the
walls, the immense night
sings of love in a gentle voice

and as the tide sweeps clean the
wandering sands, beautiful and
infinite the last star falls.