Slow Rising

Star scorched banks lie thirsting for homespun sun
Bundle of feathers floats across the skies.
Day comes too slowly where the moon once hung,
And he steals warmth on which a feather flies.

The night is kind until the sun takes stage,
When comforting haze becomes oppressive bane.
Painful silence reigns as light stains the age,
Lost land tenses as night begins to wane.

Slick feathers pause as the onslaught begins,
The glow emerges with maddening ease.
Eager for relief the pale land rescinds,
Shying from the touch and desperate to please.

Memories of the night still fresh at hand,
With naught but doubt and frothing delusion
To rock to sleep the ocean’s fragile stand.
Yet night slips, made shamefaced by intrusion.

All ties and tufts the feather stack alights,
On a once-green where it sings of brightness.
Touched so gently the land calms and delights,
Joining sweet feathers in morning egress.