After the sun bleeds colors
into the sky the white stars
are scattered like diamonds thrown
across the violet black night.
...
Stars cannot punch
the sky, but can stab
with pin size tears.
...
Ocean clouds hang heavy, sunlight- cushioned,
grey blue shadows pressed up against
...
Trees' jagged branches
catch the sun sinking a moist
hummus color spread
...
Clipped Wings
After the sun bleeds colors
into the sky the white stars
are scattered like diamonds thrown
across the violet black night.
The edge of dawn is a thread
of light expanding
and spilling like smooth thick cream.
I am the moth drawn to the fading
shine of the streetlamp.
Hovering and circling
until the glow disappears.
And even the quick flutter
Of my wings cannot lift me.
Your poems are nice and spicy,, very attractive Jennifer,,