The Sun Chasers

Fast, it falls behind black pashmina veil,

                                                            the sun.

Chasms quiver, filled with last rays of the day;

her striations of soft summer song rise and drift.

They chase burnt roads into unknown charcoaled

charter catching hymns between rocky

rotations.

Sultry, night intrudes with siren. They,

solemn, low-key whispering, slump.

Fading cumulus resign into mountainous

silver-spoon abyss. And dusky

lyrics float on seams, they do not kiss.

Heaven squeezes through a silent key hole

while

they race, blind to the highway, cracked.

With eyes scorched, they cry in circles.

 Michelle Gaddes 2012