The Suns of Thunder Meet the Sisters of the Moon
Rushing through the Darkness Towards the Dawn
Racing to be caught by a train.
Tag and you're it for the very last time.
Sunrise as a heavy lidded Eye
Dawn as the slow opening of a sleepy eye
One bright, piercing orb
False Dawn Filters Thru Bare Trees
The Computer Speaks in a Halting Voice
Right before inserting the phrase that tells us who we are and where we are going.
For the next 40 minutes I will ride in a metal box
cocooned in plastic,
bathed in fluorescent light,
metal at my knees,
rubber at my feet,
breathing recirculated air,
air that was first warmed to temperature of blood,
then it cooled to room temperature by the time it reached me.
And then another passenger opens the door and let morning in.
The heater fights a losing battle against the cold.
Dawn Born of Crimson Fire
Rosey Streamered Dawn
Steel birds throwing themselves in the fire
smoking and steaming as they go
Immolated at the birth of a new day
What fresh flames banked by dawn's early light
break out anew and bath the city in fires glow