sigh

Mar 15, 2008 - 18:38 PM PST

Bulking, metallic beasts grumble impatiently in single file lines minute after hour after day after week. The boiling distance distorts anything too far away to be important. The goldenrod sun bathes the topography in sapphire hues. Cumuli eerily and silently creep intent on imprisoning the sun and blanketing the earth from her groping rays. She falls in hopes to send her last weary bands over fertile plains who wait for wizened hands to sculpt them. In a desperate attempt she directs her shine into thoroughfared cities where reflective buildings catch her beams and throw them in other directions. She musters all her strength after the world has passed her by and, as one last distressful cry, releases a single green flash soaring past the sea as if to say, “I may have set, but I’ll be back.” Cerulean skies crowning the clouds unmask a god-faring expanse of the most precious rubies, turquoises, and brilliant diamonds in a showcase that not even the lords could buy. The ground sighs breathing steam as droplets of water and wind cautiously, caressingly extract the warmth from baked foundations. The air dilutes the colors from troubled matter. Literal fragrance of fresh is far and wide spreading first to the filth, then to the stressed. Rain cascades in thick, temperate sheets sounding a plethora of drums in a thousand individual rhythms that all match perfectly. Chilled dark steals under thunderheads unbidden. The night jumps out of the way when thunderheads send a streaking searchlight moaning anxiously. At end of all is a thread’s width of silver lining on all horizons, outlining where sorrows dissolve.