A City, for the day, has been wrapped in gold

 

Mirk of dull steel has silently recoiled

 

A grey fog has parted, gifting a deadened sky

 

Alleviates for a palette written in light

 

To bask instead in its jewelled majesty 

 

Dawn til’ dusk escape from iron-clad reality

 

In a brief triumph of root against foundation

 

A scorching blanket and a pre-emptive celebration

 

At last find their moment burst in flames

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A City, once bathing indigo

 

Moonlights as an Eden clothed inferno

 

When sunlit, regular bleaches away, 

 

Glossed over in favour of apricot smothered basking,

 

A population flirting with melted bronze

 

For there is nothing more promising

 

Than a street side painted glare

 

Seeping to each sun-kissed crease where

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Afterglow bleeds into mornings after

 

Mornings after become days before

 

And days before become months

 

Spent soaking

 

Marinating in simple relapse

 

An amber retox

 

Waiting for a navy collapse

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Where bodies cocoon tending to a dizzied mind

 

And skins peel to reveal a cobalt frail spirit

 

Promised to one day walk in fields of Gold

 

Readying for the long sleep

 

Descent into spiralling cerulean

 

Until the cycle grinds to a rousing bloom

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Her scarf rages in the pink ooze

 

Defying a fleeting levity sprung in fleeting rouge

 

Winter blues rejected for summer golds.

 

The ground is baking,

 

The sky is bleeding,

 

Come out and play.