Revising
day,
Reclaiming hours,
I renamed chunks
to suit–
the mourning
AM
augured ill
–I deemed
it after moon…
the always sunrise
so conceived
was verity foretold.
Found afternoon
a lazy term,
that tells me what it’s not.
Meridians
are vital paths
to soul beyond
the dream,
with Posts & signs, I then assigned
new map to setting sun. . .
‘til leveling the
disparate pair at
twilight
–good and bad–
thus evening,
unsettling,
with cyclical
locution.
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