Bursts of blues and pinks,
swirls of silver and grays.
They crescent over hills
and barrels of wild hay,
they reflect in mirrors
and bring start to day.

Purple and orange,
yellow and fire.
They seep through
the cracks of blinds,
flood the wandering mind
of ones still awake.

Black and stormy,
violent and dreary.
They lead to a moment
passing metal,
concrete, cement.
Crane neck and shameful,
bowed heads.
Wicked smile,
vengeful bob of head.