My Craft Poetry

Postmeridian Cynosure Reflected in Morning Light

Pink clouds reflect morning sunrise
Above the mountain purple skies
Reaching to touch the morning star
A black ribbon afar
Space touches the planet breath
Then exhaling the night’s death

We stir and sigh, the dreaming over
Yet not wanting to rise, we turnover

The morning light proclaims red skies take warning
With a hint of moisture and storming
Still the afternoon sun burns away the clouds
To leave behind sticky shrouds
Of summer’s blanketing heat
The angry sun replete

We whir and sigh, the workday over
Longing to chase our postmeridian cynosure

Waiting for buses and subways
To take us to down highways
While thunder claps and storms gather
Wringing moisture into a lather
Flinging down hail and rain
We feel electricity in a vein

We dance and cry, the thunderstorm over
Shaking off raindrops, no need to take cover.

© 2018, Michael Shawn Sommermeyer. All rights reserved.

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