Prokana

Does it ever intend it?
Does it even know?
How beautifully and relentlessly
it gives meaning to shade
unaware of its glow.

(A #poem I wrote about my #DnD crush)

The tint of the sky
the color of day
dissipates in the waking night
when it gathers its hair
and takes it away.

It is not graceful,
it does not prance.
It follows a rhythm of its on,
honest and free
like a primal dance.