In The Wake of Light

The sun lies.
Sensation pricks her eyes,
A delicate surprise of wonder
Blinded by a cloud's meander.
Blue skies insinuate the thought
That the day shall be felicitous,
But a shadow hangs beneath her eyes,
Yet again, the sun lies.
Such might be the folly of misfortune
That a dusty pane might hold reflection
For with this visage now comes disgrace,
A desperate plea on a forlorn face.
The moon now grasps the earth,
As the sun whispers his goodbyes,

She lies.