Dog Days Are Over

Morning.

-

Warm street glow,

Of the rapid-running dawn,

Claiming the once-grey clouds,

Hanging limply in the orange,

Slightly melancholied, sky-dome.

-

Arms in an outstretch of

Unabashed embrace, to greet

Father sky's festive colors,

Rained down, amber jeweled facets

Of ourselves in the slick, reflecting

Streets.

-

Syrupy gazes in the quick-rising

Of the new day, as we awake

In beds not our own,

On a day that belongs to only

The swift, fleeting feet of time.

As our Earth moves in some languid hurry,

All along the blushing streets.

-

Like an orange, the sun pops free

Of the horizon, Pulled along by Helios,

That golden chariot racing across

The new light. Faces turned to

See, in sleepy splendor,

A new day,

Birthed from the ugliness

Of what was yesterday.

-

Glistening in the dew

Of tender trees leaves, our eyes

Cast merry looks along the line

Of the new, fiery dawn.

-

Sun hangs, in heavy solitude,

Imposing the bright flames

Which lick so, at the facesOf the waking ones, and the trees,

The windows,

Who so grace the sun with his own image.

-

Street lamp flicker in the distant night,

As we dance in the jeweled rain

Of this day, new and still smelling

Of the night musk, from which it came.

Arms held out in joyous welcome

To this, most gracious of births.

-

Like a glistening orange,

The sun bends

To place a fiery kiss

On my lips.