Tanner Brockwell

when the sun turns
by tanner brockwell

when the sun turns
cold as that chariot
orange hues in the waning
night enters shod
in the silvered slippers
bespectacled orb shine
as time feels like slow slow drops
the firmament less sure
than the fires bright
that picked against the fabric
of the darkened night
there is a feeling of eternity
those fires burnt
a thousand years
what is a thousand
but before
these flames flick and shimmer
and the wheel of night
winds slowly away

This
work is licensed under a
Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 License.

This work is licensed under the Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 License. To view a copy of this license, visit http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/3.0/ or send a letter to Creative Commons, 171 Second Street, Suite 300, San Francisco, California, 94105, USA.


Popularity: 27% [?]

Be Sociable, Share!

• 

Related posts:

1. and here the myriad stars
2. moth to the flickering orb
3. reflecting on the cold river
4. on the occasion
5. petals brush tender