Some Dials

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.