Swansong
Nothing in the shade
of the sun divulges
its fate perched upon
the silver line on the horizon
for every gloaming
its supercilious flames
sank to its dark demise
and in the long furlough
it musters the starshine
so when the wintry moon
waned from her divan
he would shoot a flaming arrow
and shear the canopies eastward
revived with duplicitous hopes
unbeknownst to the tongue
awaiting to quell it again
in a forked and malcontent cycle
poem by Norman Santos
Added by Poetry Lover
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