Until We Disappear
“The sun is a little ball of fitful light,
tucked inside folds of smoke-charred clouds.
A curtain of rain yawns with mouth wide open
upon thirsty lands,
and treads brazenly where the sunlight falls,
and life sinks …. into the arms of despair.
Each morning, the sun shakes itself awake
and etches golden ripples
upon the canvas of a broken dawn,
and dances on the ashes of a tired evening —
its playful rays dimmed
by the dark … until they disappear.”