lately.

rising over the pale orange trees,

its light peacefully kills

its companions far and far,

the sun wakes in faint

your eyes in slow pain,

your mouth so slightly ajar,

recall the last moments

when scenes gracefully crashed

into each you walked and saw

observing with some patient

speechless eyes. never shut.

(always shut.)

it rolls as you roll in bed

traveling long and stationary,

you refuse to wake and depart

from good places in your heart

when the hours had gone

the sun retired to its hill.

so you, so still,

now sighed, now slowed.

stay, now, you could

wander the crashing scenes,

whisper to the sun, now,

close, silent words.