Changes.

 

Changes.

 

As light sinks to hibernation the rays of sunset
become fatefully pallid like
faded velvet adorning a battle-vest,
spectacular and mystical changes then muster
unseen for roll-call by spreading
Queen Moon's opal veil over corners of dusk.

 

Her pale crescent glow sprays clouds of misty
non-hue, crushing out scarlet
in cool pearl beams of sheer insistence
over Sol's complexion, bleeds grey on remains
of afternoon warmth with regal
drift and dusts her lunar-flakes over the day.

 

Flamboyant streaks fighting in crimson flight
darken and Sun, now conquered
and weeping red tears is made to retire
as bleeding with wounded pride at losing face
he bows when Moon takes power,
for on tasting ascension she intends reigning.