Veins of pulsing pink
And vengeful orange
Shoot through the sky
Crowning the mountains
Caressing the trees
Until every being in the forest
Turns to watch
The world becomes liquid
Languid
At the sight
Of the fiery ocean
Hovering just above our heads
Just out of reach…
And even the tiniest scampers
And the heaviest lopes
Grow legato marks
Over their heads
But as the scene
Melts into darkness
The crickets strike up
The moment is lost.
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