The Weight of Vanishing Light

Photo by Cindy Beams

So let us go on, deliriously spinning
effortless in the way a child’s body
flies through the summer air
warm with hydrangeas.

The days wane,  
the leaf surrenders, turns
and makes its way to the ground.
Blades don’t know to fear the cold.

 Let us go on pushing
our hands into the grass
staining our palms mossy green.
We will be gamblers, wagering on wonder.

Let us point
our toes toward the sky,
until thin sundresses cover our heads.
The world is pale purple flowers.

Let us go on chasing
dragons with sticks.
Their fire breath will only last
until the light fades and ponds turn to ink.

Let us go on, and on,
in a circle, waiting for nothing
oblivious to the weight
of this and every sea salt day.