The day is on its back, but not quite asleep just yet.
A silk net catches the last rays
As an eight-legged ick nears its winged prisoner
And beaks above chatter their goodbyes for now.
A crisp air hugs the horizon closer
As the sun’s hair falls gently golden
On her rocky shoulders, preparing for hypnosis.
A slither of moon escapes and casts his line outward
Onto a single fallen fireball: drawing closer
Venus sings her lullaby as mosquitos yawn awake.
She wears a crown of silver mist
As flirts flicker to mortal eyes on Earth’s pink crust.
The day slips into a dream as Venus beckons
Her choir of silver siblings to accompany
Once more the night’s moonlight sonata.
(Jana Ferreira, 2016)