T
literature

To the Sunset, Whom I Always Seem to Miss

littlecloudflower's avatar
By littlecloudflower   |   Watch
1 0 196 (1 Today)
Published: April 4, 2014
What is it about you that is so elusive?
Because heaven knows that you burn it up every day
A cool, red bloodbath above the horizon
And like mercy
(or like god, whom I do not know if I believe in (but I believe))
You give away to the night, let darkness take the reins for a while
And drive away to tomorrow's conquests and defeats

The sunflowers are your loyal followers, and I cannot help but gaze
Upon the radiance reflected in the startling burst of yellow buds
As if overwhelmed with happiness from a distant memory
You're always there in the photosynthesis of the leaves
The soft green buds of spring who are courageous against you
Facing you, loving your warmth and hating your heat

...They wait, patiently, for your death march
Your beautiful gleam of final glory
Shattering through trees like a thousand wildfires
And then, the last gleam of light fading behind the mountains
That gives poets:
Songs

Songs and promises
Promises for another day,
For a tomorrow that is forever coming like a rumbling train
Far too fast--for a future that is endlessly dying--whether in midnight peace,
Or awesome glory, I do not know.
And such is the question the sunrise poses to you
And, in your old age, in your fading beauty, in your soft and furious dignity
Such is your answer
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© 2014 - 2019 littlecloudflower
To the Sunset, Whom I Always Seem to Miss on my 6 p.m. Walks to the Science Center

^This would be my title if there is no character limit.
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Eternal guardian of the forest Whose pale eyes glow from the shadows Running with the wind, fluid and sleek Your fangs alone make the law With the stars reflecting off your coat Of burnished silver fire Your ears are alert and forward As a howl echos in the distance Standing alone, watching through the night As the moon travels the path of the sky Unknown, unseen, but forever needed Wolf...protector of the forest Protect the weak, join the strong Pass the birthright to your young Wolf...guardian of the forest May you always remain eternal
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salt the sky was pierced by graphite rain. the ground hissed and bled, oozing daisy-pus, cracks that ran into the bark. there was no song. there was no girl in an umber gown on the horizon, tossing fistfuls of hair to the wind. for lack of sacrifice, the air lost itself to dryness. if you offer your mouth to the clouds now, you will taste salt. the neighboring plateaus hold seabeds on their tongues. bedrock of needle-bones and fossil. in our spines the instinct to bend / to burrow into dream. do not stroke our coal-striped necks: our speech hammers without musicality. do not reach for the pearls – we will swallow them for safekeeping.
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