Only the crowns
of the tallest trees
blush
while the sun lingers
on the edge of day
and beyond,
where the earth curves —
out there, where there be dragons —
delicate shades hover
tremble like the fingers
of heart-sick lovers
and then, the pinks and blues alight:
brush past mountainous peaks so swiftly
(as if) to outpace some race
against descending dusk;
rush into valleys,
glancing for one last look
(as if) committing to eternity
the memory of this singular moment
© by Jana Kalina.
Used with the author’s permission.
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