Sunrise

Tilt on the turning zone of all things,

Where your blazing arrow seeks its

Bull’s-eye in flight, in slo-mo,

Into my eyes — keep heading through

The tumbling summer air,

Honed and aloft now above the horizon,

With dappled, watery light fish-scaling

Orange and blue that lifts to grow fiery wings

That flap night into dawn —

Emblazoning consecutive zones,

Marking each a new horizon,

Breath by breath, ray by ray,

Babies cry, old men wheeze, dogs bark,

Pulled away in one place

And pushed toward this:

Sky flying by too fast,
Now past —
Rise again.
Amen.