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

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work is licensed under a
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