MORNING MARCH
in tribute to the robed figures of the dawn
Burnt with a tinge that touches the sun
The smell of vermilion, a thousand golden orbs
A flame when it dances, blistering heat
Evanescent glow, celestial globe as it sinks
The sound of tangerine, a rush of sanguine winds
Russet, carmine, cerise, a blush of brilliant peach
Gracefully billowing
Constantly winnowing
Light from dark
Truth from life
Higher they climb
Olympian conference
On dorado peaks they sit
Honeyed towers of praise
La paz.
