In the sanguine light of sunrise

I hang up there in the sky.

My parts orange, my parts red.

The birds fly over my as they head

for the whole day’s bread.


Then as the sun rises

up and above and directly above

I give a roof, I give a shed

to the animals below

and to the growing mallow.


Then I turn all black

with silver lining and thunderclap

as the beauty drops fall.

They heal, they absolve

and earthy fragrance unveils.


Then at night I wrap

in my own

the beautiful face of the Moon

and watch the doves

return their homes.


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