I run towards a tattered sky
as the sun sinks lower and the moon draws my eye.
Ribbons of pink entwine with blue;
torn shreds converge in Van Gogh hues.
Mannequin trees, bare limbs outstretched
stand silhouetted; their stance protects.
Mercury pools spill over the ground
their beauty revealed; night’s magic surrounds.
I run and I run, my path now disguised
I’m at one with the darkness; instinct is my guide.
No more tattered sky, just a seamless black cape
that silently cloaks my only escape….