Light
With the season, Light has muted herself.She faded herself through the summer of
Fierceness to this wan gentleness that
Bathes us in these soft pastels. She has withdrawn her
Ferocity, her harshness, to this midday glow that
Roses the whites pallid, the greens gentle, the
Blues and reds less strictly strident
As if she is just sighing, not speeding.
Perhaps she is dispensing from her sofa now
Swaddled in silks and satins urging her brother
Night to help her recuperation.
Day follows Night and Light is taking it easy
Taking her time to appear and then retiring early,
As a slight invalid might. Estranged somewhat from
Heat, now she sits perhaps nibbling Darkness' chocolate
Soaking up the Sun, biding her time, all the while becoming
Easier on the eye. Recharging herself for her annual blaze.
She's a very fickle girl, that Light, with difficult relations.
Poetry by jenks
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Written on 2009-11-16 at 16:15
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