Only the crowns 

of the tallest trees

blush 

while the sun lingers

on the edge of day

and beyond,

where the earth curves —

out there, where there be dragons —

delicate shades hover 

tremble like the fingers

of heart-sick lovers 

and then, the pinks and blues alight: 

brush past mountainous peaks so swiftly

(as if) to outpace some race 

against descending dusk;

rush into valleys,

glancing for one last look

(as if) committing to eternity 

the memory of this singular moment

© by Jana Kalina.
Used with the author’s permission.