stonedsour's Diaryland Diary

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Stricken By The Sun

The sunset changes in the blink of a caustic eye
violent to sublime
sulfuric to violet,
envisioning to foreboding
foretelling to effervescent,
and the sun behind the clouds
is still the same sun
breathing the same light
across the withered veins of late autumn.

I stop to watch the wind sweep then
as if an aged crone perched
on a porch step
whisking the dangers in life
away with the sweep of her broom
and the admonition of her gaze
at the darkening twilight.

Yet, I am not a crone,
there is no infinite wisdom perched within this mind.
I am the clouds lingering close to the horizon,
reaching to touch the quiet color,
embracing the vibrant hues with wonderment.

And then the wind and the travelling earth shivers
in melodic movement to the west
proving another day will arrive
without pause, to conquer the myth of gravity and motion.

1:16 p.m. - 2005-04-23

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