Zenith

I awake warm on a freezing morning

Unusually, able to witness the sun’s racing rays darting across the earth

reaching.

Once they made it to the finish line, they pulled taught, the sun lurching forward, rays shortening,

raising themselves, becoming columns above us.

Zenith.

Then again where is the finish line? Does it exist?

Perhaps they were just poles, vaulting into tomorrow

That would explain the large gaps

One night as the sun vaulted, leapt,

Or maybe during the morning as its limbs stretched, spread

A donkey fell.

Bones protruding

Muscles receding

Cheeks bulging

Alone, lounging in the cold

Even her daughter

Could not stand it

Luna in the light of the moon

But it was the sun she needed

We tried six feet,

we managed four

I suppose that after all

A mini donkey gets a mini grave