Red sun rising
Firing the clay of day
What’s in a sunrise?
Second tries? Another chance
To dance? Romance illuminated; faces
Rejuvenated, intoxicated with
Daylight spirits decanted by dawn. No longer
A pawn of darkness and death, new breath invades
The breast. Done with rest; time to
Play, to welcome the day with
Cartwheels and backflips, to kiss away the night
With lips of golden fire, funeral pyre
Of all that is past. Newness awaits.