sun

i am burned
a fire of red and gold
sinking, singing
over the horizon
ancient and old
taken for granted
made for everyday
constant in my vigil
but lacking in praise
you notice
with a passing glance
as swallowing night
begets only happenstance

trying

there is no mercy
in trying
keeping vigil
over the tiny blessings
cracked open
bleeding yolk
things once counted
and lost
useless spilled salt
over the loss
but there is no happiness
only a dwelling
an image to burn
behind these eyes forever
keeping the fire going
but the train
heads in the wrong direction
speeding out
wind fluttering
at the heels
the curtains whipping madly
she stands in the middle
the aisle
just trying to stay standing
trying to find control
but there is no mercy
in trying