Moon-rise

Glistening, a glowing golden orb
Suspended in the twilight sky, grey and purple-blue.
Feeding warmth, feeding comfort
And death, the bloody sky, a death of a day.

Moist and musky, fog and clouds,
Rolling in as if wild horses thundering through summer storms:
Steady but sure
Steady but sure

The midnight dew glistening in the sundown;
Opposites, wet and dry, cold and warm,
Yet appearing together, opposites attracting,
But not for long, a split second
As the horizon engulf the liquid gold,
Separated again. The death of a day.