Losing Light

When the blood spatters freeze

and there’s little time left to shoot.

When the clouds are very dark

and only an inch is available 

of clear sky on the horizon.

Right on the horizon.

And while the sun approaches the setting point

it bursts out from under the smothering gray-

a wrestler’s faint, a wrestler’s shoot.

And for a moment the entire forest

is bathed in the most brilliant golden

but very temporary light.

And then it goes dark -

resolutely, but fading, crawling slowly

like cancerous death.

Not what I’m hoping to deal.

That will be different-

and soon.