Before the End

He is an earthy fool of morning—

makes the uphill trek of five leagues

and gathers anemones.


He is a fiery child of dusk—

arrives in the quietness beyond fatigue

and knocks at the door.


She is a flighty girl of night—

wears an anemone in her hair

and opens the door.


It is a deranged river of dawn

breaks the shackles that tamed it once

and rears its hood to strike.

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