Sunset, Madagascar (ef)

Under the coming promise of velvet night
Reality lets cautiously loose
As sunset's frail wings
Neatly clasp to the ocean's, firm
In union, perfection, collaboration
As if any old sunset would do.

Rival evenings, lost from memory
If either eye saw more beauty
Pale now, paler still
Holding soft hand to strong
At sunset's iridescent cue
Every star lets its dance begin
Under the looming curfew of dawn
Stand beside me, dance with me, too.

History (ef)

History finds safety in
the color of a mirror -
maintaining every image,
every passing scene in silver.
As compared to the originals,
it’s near-match perfection
avoids detection.
But there’s a mocking turn
and a pervasive ripple
in each offering, each
reflection.
When pushed into a corner,
so defensive it becomes!
It repeats itself
as far as the eye can section,
a possible infinity in each direction.