A radiant rising
In readiness for a gilded mourning.
For a fraction of a fraction of a second
Night and day will stand
The season a bright gold penny
Balanced on its edge.
And in the fraction of a fraction that follows
We start the long drop into dark
From which we wonder
If we will ever emerge
And if we do
What kind of world we’ll find.
So I let our falling star
Copperplate my limbs and face
Breathe the newly sharpened air
Allow myself one more glance back;
The last day of a summer
That never truly was.