A shadow at dusk becomes
Two clouds in the night
No moonlit sky
Dust from our surface earth
Most have less worth at times

Amber suns burnt out beyond
This horizon nearly done
Visibility is often said to be earned
The crowds of which chatter
But who lies behind

Tally up Tally **, for a house of old
The race of petulance soon be gone
Some cities fall and people go on
To grow into the next steps
We always call upon the young

falling is the color
of a naked heart, dipped
in cobalt dreams & violet
yearnings; bruises blooming

in amber, coagulating red roses;
marrow fueled & exposed, as it rises
—golden-yellow like the waking sun
with olive desires & an indigo passion;

it is in the merging of pigments into bright
light, brutal and blinding, but full of delight.

Goldenrods and oak
Flecks of emerald and amber
Awake! vivid spring