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Dawn Hunter
In solitude, I stand.
Sweet empty air churns in
the below canyon.
I want to fly, allow
the night to pull me in
an endless embrace.
I gaze at winking stars,
embedded in the folds
of the fabric space.
A light, a line threading
across the horizon.
I wait for the sun.
The split of gold grows no
larger. No orb appears
with the day’s event.
A flaw in the pattern.
I reach, in excitement,
to rip the seam wide.
The beauty erupts to
fill the desert. Blinded,
I grope for night’s end.
In searing light, I scream
but am soundless. I cringe
but I never bend.
All else is gone. Only
the dark chasm remains,
swollen with the tide.
The sea wants to devour.
Fearing to fall, I see
the torrent’s intent.
In terrified wonder,
I cry for night’s cover,
the peace of command.
Like thunder it came, like
lightening it left. I breathe
and gasp in cool air.
And I choke. The air is
thin, stifling in perfume
Nothing is everywhere.
A glow still floats in my
eyes. The sky hangs crooked
where it meets the land.
I am a Dawn Hunter,
in refuge, yearning light,
never to relent.
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