the sun meets heaven

in a momentary dance-

blending breath and air,

for the bassoons chant.

a D-minor blues,

lacrimosa in its tune,

catches the light,

now dimly lit,

of a foxtrotting man.

his arms like bows,

lifted as though,

tilt him back, then sideways,

releasing an arrow.

he’s a soloist in flight,

emotive and visceral-

striking, like the swiftness

of a ribbon dance.

he stretches outwards,

rolls his shoulders again,

above the sky, to the trumpet’s

metallic blare.

and like a cupid

shaded obsidian black,

his arrow comes back.

erupts roses from his chest-

with a final gaze towards the light-

the showman calls forward the curtains,

and his staccato breath,

comes to a rest,

to the sound, of running footsteps—

the sun meets heaven

in a momentary dance-

under yellow headlights

in a desolate dance.