In solitude, I stand.
Sweet empty air churns in
the below canyon.

I want to fly, allow
the night to pull me in
an endless embrace.

I gaze at winking stars,
embedded in the folds
of the fabric space.

A light, a line threading
across the horizon.
I wait for the sun.


The split of gold grows no

larger. No orb appears

with the day’s event.

A flaw in the pattern.
I reach, in excitement,
to rip the seam wide.

The beauty erupts to
fill the desert. Blinded,
I grope for night’s end.

In searing light, I scream
but am soundless. I cringe
but I never bend.

All else is gone. Only
the dark chasm remains,
swollen with the tide.


The sea wants to devour.

Fearing to fall, I see

the torrent’s intent.

In terrified wonder,
I cry for night’s cover,
the peace of command.

Like thunder it came, like
lightening it left. I breathe
and gasp in cool air.

And I choke. The air is
thin, stifling in perfume
Nothing is everywhere.

A glow still floats in my
eyes. The sky hangs crooked
where it meets the land.



I am a Dawn Hunter,

in refuge, yearning light,

never to relent.