The buttercream sunset
spills across the horizon
of wild sapphire shapeshifters.
Across the field bovine dreamers
lie dreaming of green grass,
and sunny days without slaughter.
In my human form I wait and watch,
an angel of sorts who counts the sacred breath
of life a gift no horror should trespass.
Alone in the valley of bones I am cradled
in the arms of stars candling courage from
their DNA pulsing through my veins.
The weight of hours builds its wall, and I pray
my charges and I will not suffer the knife’s wrath
or carry another scar when the Aubade sings us into morning.
©Susie Clevenger 2020
Aubade: a poem or piece of music appropriate to the dawn or early morning