Ancient, it spills its life across the Heavens,
Blaze spent,
It drifts,
Hovering upon the rim of the world
In faded splendor hangs
A second.
It blinks out,
Conflagration.
Moon, pale as milk
Rises early
Watching,
Impatiently awaiting
Sun's abdication.
She smiles and comes into her own,
Taking field and throne
Silver grace,
The fell ship of light
She rules the night with velvet hand
Until...
What news?
Dim light, shell-soft and new?
Darkness seeping
Hesitant, she cedes the field
In her demise.
Trumpets blare
Heralding
Day
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