…of the vanishing night

In the final moments
of the vanishing night
a sultry sun
breaches the horizon
where distant mists
distil her light

time has stopped
and all around
nothing moves
even the shadows
are frozen
shimmering
and still as the dew

the winds stream blue
through the silence
of the pearlescent sky
bearing petals
and perfume
captured
from the woods below

the music of morning
is flowing like water
drawn from the rivers
of heaven
where the lady moon
is folding her veils
extinguishing
her candle
she fades gently
out of sight
© Ann Bagnall